Lamp of the Valar
by Cloudy Magic
Summary: Sequel to Weyr of the Lost. Back in Middle-earth, Rhachsell hears of an old lengend which may help her fit in with the elves. Taking her black dragon Faroth, she travels to the desert land of Harad in search of the mysterious Lamp of the Valar...
1. Default Chapter

Author's Note  
  
And so it finally begins, the sequel to Weyr of the Lost. Sadly the original is no longer on fanficiton.net due to the ban on Anne McCaffrey fan fiction, but it can still be read at my community: http://groups.msn.com/HoleInTheGround. This sequel will be set entirely in Middle-earth with only passing mentions of Pern - surely not enough to warrant being deleted. Hopefully *fingers crossed*.  
  
I have to apologise to any Tolkien purists reading this. I have read up on Elven legends (though I have yet to manage the Simarillion) however for the purpose of this fic a few Elvish legends may get bent and twisted to fit. Sorry. The Valar were kind of gods I guess you could say - they were part of the first race of Middle-earth, the Ainur ('holy ones') There are fifteen of them and as far as I can tell they live in the Undying Lands. More information on them will appear throughout the fic.  
  
Disclaimer: Legolas, Middle-earth and all the characters and places therein belong to J.R.R. Tolkien. All mentions of Pern and the dragons and fire lizards belong to Anne McCaffrey - you can view her site at http://annemccaffrey.org/ I do own Rhachsell, Faroth and Anira so please don't use without asking.  
  
Finally, before I start, I have to mention Eirual and Songbreeze for their continuing support and requests for this sequel. After you've read this go check out their fic 'Brothers In Arms' on fanfiction.net and 'Death's Return; A Pernese Saga' at the fan fiction board on Anne McCaffrey's site.  
  
Now, with no further ado, happy reading and feel free to email any questions to me at cloudymagicjh@hotmail.com.  
  
  
  
Lamp Of The Valar  
  
  
  
Prologue  
  
The unicorn trotted through the silent forest, silver hooves raising puffs of dust from the sandy floor. No birds sang; no insects chirped, the unicorn moved as if in its own pocket of silence. A silvery tail floated on an unfelt breeze, a shining mane hung like strands of gossamer over the gleaming snowy white neck. The long spiralled horn rising from the creature's forehead was heavy yet she carried her head high as she passed through the breathless hush. Only for a few moments was she visible as a glimmering vision of light and splendour then she faded and was gone, as if she never had been. The trail of hoof prints remained until a light breeze stirred the dust and covered them with sand.  
  
(A.N. Yes, I know there are no unicorns in Middle-earth according to Tolkien. Trust me. I think I know what I'm doing) 


	2. Unique

(A.N. Elvish translations will be given at the end of each chapter. Stuff between // is meant to be in italics and it indicates telepathic communication, or mind speech. One day I'll work out the italics here. This chapter is fairly long - hope you enjoy! )  
  
  
  
Chapter One - Unique  
  
  
  
"Rhachsell.."  
  
"Don't even think about it."  
  
/"Rhachsell."/  
  
"You either. I'm not going to let the pair of you coerce me into wearing. that!"  
  
The offending item was a pale pink gown that hung on a stand in Rhachsell's room. Rhachsell was staring at it in utter distaste mingled with horror. Legolas sat beside her on the delicate Elven bed and slipped an arm around her shoulders.  
  
"I did recommend that they should add less.. Adornments," he said ruefully, surveying the frills and embroidery on the gauzy pink dress. It would have been perfect for a beautiful young elf but it was all wrong for his half-orc daughter. "Maybe I should speak louder next time. The seamstress appears to be going deaf."  
  
Rhachsell turned to him reproachfully, blue eyes catching the light and turning orc-orange. "Ada stop trying to distract me. You know elves don't go deaf, although sometimes I wonder about you." She grinned at him, taking the sting out of her words. "I'm not wearing that monstrosity and you know it."  
  
Legolas sighed and was opening his mouth to admit defeat when his fire lizard Anira left his shoulder with a chirp. He had given the dragonet the name that meant 'to desire' in Elvish because from the moment the bronze dappled green hatchling emerged from her shell every other elf had wanted her. Legolas had been forced to explain countless times that Anira had a unique bond to him, no it couldn't be broken no matter how much they offered to pay for her and no there were no other fire lizards in Middle- earth although they were welcome to search for some. This had been met with a variety of reactions, disbelief, incredulity and some anger from those who thought he was lying about the tiny dragon being bonded to him. Legolas was starting to wish he had been able to bring a breeding pair of fire lizards back from Pern - there would have been no shortage of elves eager to receive a fire lizard partner of their own. Anira's unusual colouring, a mixture of two ordinary fire lizard colours Legolas put down to the trip between worlds she had gone through in the shell as he could think of no other explanation.  
  
Anira landed on the shoulder of the gown, her claws tangling in the material. She pecked at a frill, her sharp beak tearing through it. A scrap of pink material floated to the floor accompanied by the fire lizard's gleeful whistle. Legolas and Rhachsell exchanged smiles. "Have you got a knife?" Rhachsell asked with a mischievous glam in her eyes. Legolas drew his white hafted knives and handed one to her. They set to work and within minutes the gown was much plainer, if a little frayed around the edges. Anira landed on Legolas' shoulder, contriving to look extremely smug. The elf surveyed the gown critically.  
  
"I could send the seamstress up to neaten the edges slightly," he offered. Rhachsell shook her head.  
  
"She'll burst into tears if she sees what we've done to her 'masterpiece'. I'll be fine - no one will notice."  
  
Legolas looked doubtful, but he nodded. "If you think you'll be happy wearing it..."  
  
"Much happier now we've altered it. Shoo. You have to get ready too," Rhachsell urged him. Legolas left the room, casting a grin back at her over his shoulder for her bossiness. Rhachsell waited until the door had closed then looked at her gown with a sigh.  
  
/"Much better,"/ her black dragon Faroth approved, viewing the dress through her eyes. He was actually outside, perched on the flat roof of the kitchens. Rhachsell knew his head was positioned right above the open window so he caught every delicious smell that floated out. He was waiting for the feast to be finished so he could stick his head through the door and let the cook feed him his favourite titbits.  
  
/"You my dear, eat far too much,"/ Rhachsell told him. /"One day you'll find you're stuck on the ground because you're too fat to lift off."/  
  
/"Hah! Nobody feeds me enough for that to happen."/ Faroth attempted to make his mental tone sound pathetic but Rhachsell wasn't fooled. She snorted in disbelief.  
  
/"People feed you more than they feed themselves. I'm amazed we haven't run out of food yet."/ The half-orc sighed and stepped towards the re-styled gown. "Time to get dressed I suppose," she said aloud.  
  
/"If you'd just grow scales like any self respecting dragon then you wouldn't have this trouble."/  
  
/"Faroth I've told you before, I have no idea how to grow scales."/  
  
She sensed her dragon's amusement in his reply. /"Then maybe you should learn."/  
  
Rhachsell shook her head and realised with a start how much time she was wasting. "I'm going to be late!" She grabbed the gown and hauled it off the stand then tried to wriggle out her tunic. Faroth's snicker of amusement echoed in her mind as she got tangled in the clothes.  
  
/"Don't you dare laugh."/ She threatened him.  
  
/"Wouldn't dream of it."/  
  
/"Liar."/  
  
She finally succeeded in climbing into the gown then snatched up her brush off the table beside her mirror. She ran the brush through her long hair a few times, then studied her reflection in the glass framed with wooden leaves.  
  
Her hair was the only thing she liked about herself, long and blond, elf fine as it clung to her hands and the brush. Her face however was nothing like an elf's although something of Legolas lingered in the set of her eyes and mouth. Scars striped her orc-dark skin, pulling one eye askew and giving her a crooked smile. The Elven healers had managed to remove the iron rings from her nose but the scarring remained, hiding any hint of Elven elegance that might have once lingered in her face. No matter how much she tried to convince herself that her eyes could be Elven eyes, the slightest turn of her head could catch the light and turn them from Legolas' blue into deep orange. She sighed. At least the gown had long sleeves so it hid the scars on her arms.  
  
/"You look beautiful to me,"/ Faroth comforted her. Rhachsell sighed again.  
  
/"Thanks sweetheart. That helps."/  
  
/"You don't have to go to the feast."/  
  
/"You know I do,"/ Rhachsell disagreed reluctantly. /"If my father has to chose a future bride I should at least show my support."/  
  
In his position as King of Mirkwood, Legolas had a court of advisors, all of whom were made extremely nervous by Rhachsell's existence. They had advised Legolas to marry and produce an heir as soon as possible on his return from Pern, a plan the king had met with extreme distaste. But the goodwill of his subjects depended on him appearing to do what was in their best interests so for the last two months the court had been swamped by a deluge of female elves who had heard the King of Mirkwood was looking for queen. Rhachsell hated them all - they were beautiful and graceful in their elegant gowns and finely crafted jewellery. When she entered a room where a group of Elven ladies were talking, conversation would pause for a long moment then continue in hushed tones as if they didn't want her to hear. None of them would greet her if they passed her in the corridors, none of them with converse with her at mealtimes. Legolas noted each and every reaction and made his displeasure at the treatment of his daughter clear, but nothing changed. Rhachsell was half-orc and to most elves this made her an abomination who should have been drowned at birth.  
  
"Maybe I should have been drowned at birth," she murmured. Faroth's shock washed through her.  
  
/"Then what would I have done? We are unique you and I, meant to be together. No one else could possibly understand that. What people do not understand makes them afraid - they fear the unknown. You are unknown and therefore they fear you."/  
  
/"When did you become so wise?"/ Rhachsell asked in amazement as she turned to leave the room.  
  
/"Your father. He tends to rub off on people. Or dragons for that matter."/  
  
/"Yeah well don't let him hear you say that or he'll start acting really smug about it. That's what I hate about elves. They have that inner smugness."/ Rhachsell grinned.  
  
/"I think dragons have an inner smugness too."/ Faroth confessed thoughtfully.  
  
/"Really? I wonder if I could get one?"/  
  
/"You could try!"/  
  
By this time Rhachsell had reached the tall doors into the banqueting hall. She hesitated, tugging self consciously at her gown, suddenly aware of the tattered edges. From inside she could hear the murmur of many voices. Perhaps she could skip the feast after all. No one would miss her. She hesitated for a moment longer, her scarred fingers resting against the door, then, a lump of shame rising in her throat, she turned away - only to walk right into her father.  
  
"Rhachsell," he told her firmly, resting his hands on her shoulders. He had changed from his usual forest garb into a sapphire blue tunic he had received as a coronation present from Galadriel. Rhachsell thawed slightly at the sight of it; she had often mentioned how much she liked that particular tunic and by wearing it he was subtly supporting her.  
  
"But Ada," she started pleadingly then trailed off as his eyes narrowed.  
  
"Rhachsell, it is just a feast. Enjoy the food, ignore the company. It's only a formality to placate the court - you know I don't want to marry." He pushed open the heavy oak doors and the sound of a thousand voices rose to a crescendo.  
  
"Then why don't you tell all them to go home?!" Rhachsell muttered, indicating the Elven ladies seated in the hall with a flick of her eyes. Legolas glanced at her to reply but the minstrel Taliesin was already hurrying over to announce them.  
  
"King Legolas Greenleaf of Mirkwood and the Lady Rhachsell!" He announced, bowing as Legolas stepped into the hall. Rhachsell caught her father's furious glance at the minstrel for not awarding her the full title of 'Princess of Mirkwood', but the king had no chance to reprimand him as now every elf in the hall was rising to their feet, their eyes on the entering royalty. Legolas silently swore to himself at this stupid pointless formality, but his feet were already carrying him towards his seat on the raised dais to one end of the room. The conversation had hushed as they entered but as he passed a group of young elf maids all vying for his hand in marriage, there was a flurry of whispers and blushes. As Rhachsell passed the tone of the whispers became derisive causing a dark flush to rise to her cheeks. She kept her eyes on the floor and ignored the whispers as best she could as she followed her father to their seats.  
  
/"I can chase them all the way to Pern and back if you'd like me too?"/ Faroth offered. Rhachsell bit down on a giggle and lifted her chin, her dragon giving her the confidence to stare right back at the snickering elves who dropped their eyes hurriedly.  
  
/"Good girl!"/ Faroth approved. /"I'll still chase them though. It'd be fun to see them try and outdistance me."/  
  
Rhachsell couldn't restrain a grin. /"Thanks Faroth but father promised Elrond that he's return them in one piece. I don't think you chasing them home would be good for their delicate little feet."/  
  
/If I eat them in one bite, they'd still be in one piece yes?"/  
  
Rhachsell tripped over the steps up to the dais in shock. /"Faroth, don't you dare! Although it is tempting.."/  
  
Legolas glanced back at his daughter. She had the unfocused look she wore when conversing with her dragon. He stifled a wistful sigh and Anira popped out of between, chittering at him. He held out his arm for her to land and a sigh of envy rose up from around the hall as she walked up his arm and settled on his shoulder, long tail curling around his neck. Legolas turned to face the hall.  
  
"Be seated!" he called. The elves sat down in a mass of shuffling feet and chairs. Legolas paused until they were all settled then clapped his hands. "Let the feast begin!"  
  
He sat down and Elven servants poured into the hall from hidden doorways, carrying platters of food. Rhachsell hunched down in her seat in resignation of a long, boring evening. Outside she could feel Faroth's gleeful anticipation of his own meal which the cook was readying inside the kitchen.  
  
To pass the time, Rhachsell tuned in to the conversations around her. Legolas was making polite small talk with his dinner partner who seemed rather awed by her royal companion. On Rhachsell's other side was her own dinner partner, a young Mirkwood elf with only a few centuries behind him. He was engrossed in conversation with the elf-maid on his right, rudely ignoring Rhachsell entirely. Legolas noticed his daughter's exclusion and valiantly struggled to include her in his conversation but when most of the other elves refused to acknowledge her existence it tended to cause awkward silences that no one would fill. On Legolas' fourth attempt to start up a discussion including her, she kicked him under the table. He glanced at her in surprise and she shook her head fractionally. With a sigh for her acceptance of the situation he returned to small talk. The tense atmosphere relaxed again.  
  
Rhachsell stared into space, her mind wandering as she picked at her food. Faroth's eager murmur of thoughts faded as she narrowed her eyes. All elves had the skill to sense their surroundings and although Rhachsell didn't have her father's range, she could still hear the trees outside their palace, the chatter of black squirrels as they leapt through the canopy, the soft hooves of a fleeing deer against the forest floor.  
  
Rhachsell frowned as the deer passed by and the hoof beats continued. The Elven horses were all safely stabled within the palace; there were no wild horses loose in Mirkwood. Visitors? She felt Faroth's attention shift to her as she concentrated on the sound.  
  
/"What is it?"/  
  
/"Hush. I'm not sure."/  
  
Legolas glanced at her daughter with a puzzled expression. Most elves could 'sense' their surroundings with the lightest of touches, like a whisper of silk on skin. Gimli had once wryly remarked that Rhachsell had the 'sensing' subtly of a rampaging Oliphaunt - even dwarves could 'feel' it. Already some elves in the hall were glancing around curiously to locate the source of the noise.  
  
"Daughter," Legolas muttered under his breath. "You're being extremely distracting."  
  
"Sorry. I think we have visitors," she murmured in reply. Legolas glanced around for a guard.  
  
"I'll go." Rhachsell was already out her seat. Legolas raised his eyebrows warningly.  
  
"Rhachsell-"  
  
"I'll be fine. If they've found us here then they must be friends. I won't be long." She was heading towards the door before Legolas could formulate an argument. With a groan of resignation, he leaned back in his chair to wait for the new arrivals.  
  
Rhachsell ran lightly towards the palace gateway, the smooth corridor letting her sprint unhindered. She turned a corner at full speed and glimpsed the gateway ahead of her, the heavy gates already pulled back. Disappointment flashed through her when she realised that the guards must have already recognised the visitors and let them in. The momentary distraction was all she needed; she stepped on the hem of her gown and crashed to the ground, tumbling head over heels. She skidded into the stone wall with a thud, then lay still, winded and bruised.  
  
/"Rhachsell!"/ Faroth queried anxiously. /"What happened? Are you hurt?!"/  
  
/"Just my pride,"/ Rhachsell mumbled in disgust. An elf wouldn't have fallen like that. She pushed herself to her knees then heard voices nearby. With a spurt of panic she realised what she must look like; tattered dress, covered in dust and dirt from her fall and her hair all over her face. Her Orc upbringing took over and she dived for cover, the nearest hiding place being an alcove in the wall. She wriggled backwards into the shadows, hunching down so she wouldn't be seen. She could feel Faroth's amazement and disgust.  
  
/"You're the Princess of the palace! What on earth are you hiding for?!"/  
  
Rhachsell hesitated for a moment wondering if he was right but then the visitors rounded the corner and crawling out from the alcove would had raised far too many embarrassing questions. She ducked her head into the shadows and peered out through her hair.  
  
They were being led towards the banqueting hall by a guard Rhachsell knew named Haf. The first visitor Rhachsell knew well; her father's old friend Gimli Son of Gloin. He was a familiar face - Legolas had once teased him by saying the dwarf spent more time in Mirkwood than in his own mountain home and if he wasn't careful he's start growing pointy ears. Gimli had pretended to take great offence at the suggestion so Legolas delighted in bringing it up at every opportunity. Rhachsell grinned at the dwarf's rough voice as he berated the guard for walking too fast for the rest of the party to keep up. Gimli would rather die than admit his short strides couldn't keep up with the long legs of the elves. Then her attention was caught by the man walking at Gimli's side and she blushed.  
  
Aragorn, son of Arathorn was very much the King of Gondor now. Dressed in rich purple velvet trimmed with gold, his old ranger clothes were long gone, however horse hair still clung to the fabric of his tunic and the long ride to Mirkwood from Gondor had given him the beginnings of a beard. Rhachsell stifled a smile as he bent to ask Gimli something, blue eyes dancing. From the way Gimli reacted with indignation Rhachsell would guess it had been a comment about how men and elves could walk faster than dwarves. She watched him a moment longer, noting the way his hair was ruffled after the journey and how Gimli had to take two strides to match one of the man's. Then Faroth realised who she was watching and snorted in the draconic equivalent of laughter. Rhachsell's cheeks turned pink as his amusement bounced around her mind.  
  
/"It's your favourite person,"/ he mentioned casually. /"Why don't you go and say hello?"/  
  
/"He's just a friend,"/ Rhachsell muttered defensively.  
  
/"Yes. Whatever you say."/  
  
/"Shut up Scale-breath."  
  
"Yes Master,"/ Faroth's amused reply echoed through her mind. Rhachsell wasn't listened - something else had caught her attention.  
  
She had been walking behind Aragorn and Gimli, half out of sight as she studied her surroundings. Now she stepped up to Aragorn's side, linking an arm through his, going on tiptoe to whisper something in his ear. Blue eyes the colour of a twilight sky shone in the torch-lit corridors, her silvery gown floating around her like mist. This must be the Lady Arwen, reputed to be the most beautiful elf in all of Middle-earth. Raven dark hair curled around a pale face with high cheekbones and smooth skin as she leaned over to kiss Aragorn's cheek. Rhachsell sank back into her alcove, one hand automatically going to her scarred face, wistfully tracing the hard skin. The visitors were swiftly coming closer and she huddled in the shadows, abruptly terrified of being discovered by such important people accompanied by one of the most famous elves in all Middle-earth. They began to pass Rhachsell's hiding place and against her better judgement she glanced up to watch. For the briefest of moments Aragorn's eyes met hers as he glanced around and surprise flashed over his face. Then the party continued on past the alcove, Arwen Undomiel's silvery laugh lingering long after she had passed by.  
  
/"I'm sorry,"/ Faroth said softly to Rhachsell. She shook her head, swallowing the lump in her throat.  
  
/"What do I care?"/ she asked bitterly. /"I knew he was married. I knew she was beautiful. I just didn't expect.. Well, *that* beautiful."/  
  
/"You don't have to go back to the feast."/ Faroth consoled her.  
  
/"I'm not planning on it. Could you tell my father we've gone flying?"/  
  
/"Of course."/  
  
Rhachsell scrambled to her feet and peered out the alcove. The corridor was empty. She started towards her rooms to change, then paused. The gown was ruined anyway. She turned towards the outer courtyard and the kitchens and ran as fast as she could towards her dragon, avoiding any elves she met, which wasn't many. Everyone was at the feast. She reached the kitchen door and dived into the madness of the servants organising the rest of the feast. She weaved through them, head ducked until she reached the steps and leapt up them without being spotted. Faroth was waiting outside, black scales gleaming in the late sun. She leapt onto his back without pausing and he ran a few steps to gain momentum before taking off. Rhachsell wrapped her hands around his neck ridge, closing her eyes as the wind blew her hair back.  
  
/"I'll just tell your father we've gone flying. I thought it best to wait until we were off the ground so he couldn't argue."/  
  
/"Good thinking."/  
  
/"Thanks."/  
  
*  
  
In the banqueting hall, Legolas paused in welcoming Aragorn and Gimli as Faroth politely informed him where Rhachsell was. The Mirkwood king blinked.  
  
"What's the matter?" Aragorn asked. Legolas frowned.  
  
"Rhachsell went to greet you but Faroth has just told me they've gone flying. That makes no sense."  
  
Aragorn opened his mouth as if to say something then hesitated. Finally he cleared his throat with a shrug.  
  
"I'm sure she has a good reason."  
  
"I was looking forward to seeing her again," Gimli said in disappointment. Legolas patted his shoulder.  
  
"I'm sure she won't be long."  
  
Aragorn remained silent for a long moment, then his eyes came to rest on Arwen, sitting nearby as she talked to Haf. Gondor's king narrowed his eyes as he put everything together and he turned to Legolas.  
  
"I think we need to talk later on my friend."  
  
"About what?" Legolas asked in surprise. On his shoulder Anira chirped curiously, eyes whirling green. Aragorn shook his head.  
  
"After the feast."  
  
*  
  
/"Why me Faroth?"/ Rhachsell asked bitterly. /"Why am I the half-orc dragon-rider who no one will talk too?"/ She stared down at Mirkwood, a dark green blanket spreading out beneath her.  
  
/"You are unique,"/ Faroth told her gently. /"Yes you may have problems, but others do too. You can say that you are the only one of your kind anywhere in the universe and that makes you special."/  
  
/"Well maybe I didn't *ask* to be unique!"/ Rhachsell cried. /"I wish I was normal! Just another elf that didn't stand out in any way."/  
  
/"I think that every other elf would wish exactly the opposite if given the chance,"/ Faroth pointed out wryly. /"Everyone wants to be unique, the only one of their kind. Only you can say that you are the only half-orc dragon rider in Middle-earth. Only I can say I am the only dragon to have been born on a spaceship. Together we are special. You shouldn't let them tell you anything else."  
  
/"Perhaps,"/ Rhachsell said with a sigh. Faroth snorted, a whisp of smoke rising from his nostrils to be whipped away by the wind.  
  
/"There is no perhaps about it. You are special and I am special and together we are unique. That is all we need."/  
  
Rhachsell leaned forward to hug her dragon. /"Love you Faroth."/  
  
/"I love you too my unique rider."/  
  
  
  
*  
  
  
  
*"Ada" - father/dad  
  
*"Anira" - 'to desire'  
  
A.N. I'm sorry this chapter ended up so long - it wasn't meant too. Hopefully now I have the preliminaries over the next few chapters will be easier to get through. Thanks for reading and reviews are always appreciated. 


	3. Friends

Right, finally a new update! I'm sorry this took so long - I know I managed pretty regular updates of about every five days with Weyr of the Lost. However that was in the summer holidays when I had all the time in the world to write - unfortunately college doesn't allow me the same freedom. I'm afraid some updates could take this long, although I'll try and warn you in advance if it's going to be longer than two weeks. Don't worry - I haven't abandoned this story and there will be holidays when I can write more. I have no intention of letting this trail off into oblivion after promising to write it for so long.  
  
Also, I didn't have the heart to leave you on a cliff-hanger after I spent so long getting this update up. One more nice 'awww-worthy' chapter before everything goes wrong. Now I'll be quiet in case I give anything else away. ^-^ Thanks to everyone who reviewed last time!  
  
One more thing - I refer to Arwen's past history with the Orcs. It wasn't until I discovered a reference to it in the books that I remembered about it. Arwen's mother, Elrond's wife, was kidnapped by the Orcs and tortured. Although she was later rescued, she never recovered and left for the Undying Lands. I'm sorry to say I've forgotten her name - if anyone could tell me that would be most welcome!  
  
  
  
Enjoy, and I apologise again for taking so long.  
  
Cloudy  
  
  
  
Chapter Two - Friends  
  
"How has Rhachsell been fitting in Legolas?" Aragorn asked casually. Legolas looked at his friend and sighed.  
  
"Aragorn if your wits got any sharper you'd cut yourself."  
  
"I'll take that as a compliment," the ranger replied, leaning back in his chair. They had retreated to Legolas' study after the feast to catch up with the news. Arwen had declined the invitation, saying she would like to explore the palace some more, but Gimli was seated in his favourite armchair by the fire. He glanced towards the elf.  
  
"I assume from that she's been having some problems?"  
  
"Problems is an understatement," Legolas answered, resting his chin on his hand. "It's bad enough for the court that she exists at all - now Faroth has grown big enough to fly dislike has turned into fear. None of the elves except me and occasionally some of the guards will acknowledge her existence. She hates being ignored even more than the insults."  
  
"Can't you do something about it?" Aragorn asked, worry in his tone. "There must be something-"  
  
"I've *tried*," Legolas said helplessly. "I've asked them, I've commanded them, I've even threatened them - they're so stubborn!" He gritted his teeth. Aragorn and Gimli exchanged alarmed glances; apparently the elf-king was at the end of his patience.  
  
"I have a suggestion," Aragorn said cautiously. "Have you considered letting Rhachsell spend some time away from court? Give yourself and her a break from all the antagonism?"  
  
"Where would she go?" Legolas asked, spreading his hands in a gesture of powerlessness. "I can't send her to any of my own people - they'd treat her just the same. Likewise sending her back to the Orcs is *not* an option. Besides I'd rather that Rhachsell didn't think I was getting rid of her. It took me long enough to gain her trust last time."  
  
"She's welcome to come home with me?" Gimli suggested. "She could learn metal-working as an excuse - say you want her to learn a new skill."  
  
"But the dwarves have more reason to hate her than the elves. They hate the elves and they hate the Orcs even more." Legolas closed his eyes and rubbed slender fingertips against his temples to assuage a growing headache.  
  
"It's settled then," Aragorn said calmly. "She can come to Gondor."  
  
"You aren't serious?" Legolas said in amazement, eyes snapping open to stare at his friend.  
  
"Why not?" Aragorn asked with a shrug. "Gondor has people from all over Middle-earth so a half-breed elf won't make any difference. After the hobbits she probably won't even stand out. And we have an entire city to keep her occupied - maybe some time there will do her good."  
  
"But Faroth?" Gimli said guardedly. "How will the people react to him?"  
  
"It's probably better to keep him mostly out of sight at first," Aragorn replied slowly as he assessed the problem. "But once people get curious enough they'll welcome any glimpse of him. We've got an entire palace for him to hide in - I doubt it'll be a problem. Legolas? All you have to do is say yes."  
  
"Not exactly," Legolas answered, shaking his head. "I'll have to ask Rhachsell. And you should ask Arwen before you decide to take Rhachsell back with you. She's an elf - I don't know how she'll react to a half-orc. And with her past I doubt she'll be able to welcome Rhachsell without at least a moment's hesitation."  
  
"Arwen knows better than to be against Rhachsell simply for her lineage ," Aragorn assured him. "She'll agree."  
  
Gimli grinned. "See Legolas? Where would you be without us?"  
  
For the first time all night, Legolas relaxed enough to laugh. "I have no idea. Now all that remains is to persuade Rhachsell to go."  
  
As he spoke, Anira burst into the room out of nowhere with a little chirp. She landed on the elf's shoulder and chattered at him before curling up to go to sleep. Legolas sighed.  
  
"Rhachsell and Faroth just landed. I'll ask Faroth to ask her to come here." His eyes unfocused briefly as he did so. "She shouldn't be too long."  
  
*  
  
"In his study?" Rhachsell asked in alarm. "What does he want me for?"  
  
/"He didn't say"/ Faroth craned his neck to regard her with lightly whirling blue eyes. /"He didn't sound annoyed though. Perhaps he just wants to talk to you."/  
  
"Lovely," Rhachsell muttered, but turned to go inside anyway. "I'll be back out to see you later Faroth. Will you be okay?"  
  
/"I'll be fine. Cook still owes me those treats she promised."/ Faroth showed his teeth in a draconic grin and Rhachsell paused to watch him as he took off and flew towards the kitchens.  
  
The dragons on Pern were clumsy creatures compared to Faroth who had been built more on the traditional idea of a dragon, with a slender body and limbs. He had also been built for combat, his wings shaped like a falcon's, good for swift dives and aerial manoeuvres. His wedge-shaped head had a ridge of spikes running up between his eyes which then became the ordinary Pern-dragon ridges down his back. He banked and circled over Rhachsell's head, dipping the tips of his wings in encouragement before he turned towards his promised meal again. Taking heart from her dragon, the half-elf turned to go inside, realising she should clean herself up before answering her father's summons. Her dress was still in tatters.  
  
*  
  
It was a much cleaner but more nervous Rhachsell that knocked at the door to Legolas' study fifteen minutes later. She had left the ruined ball gown in a heap in her room and was much more comfortable in her tunic and leggings. Still she couldn't help feeling a flutter of nerves when she remembered the Lady Arwen's perfectly sculpted features.  
  
To her relief, when she stepped into the study there was no sign of Arwen Undómiel. Her father turned to smile at her as she entered and she smiled back, her eyes darting over to Aragorn then to Gimli. Her heart fluttered again as Aragorn smiled at her but this time it wasn't with nerves.  
  
"Rhachsell!" Gimli cried, jumping out his chair. She couldn't help smiling as he rushed across the room to hug her. She missed Gimli's warm presence and gruff voice when he was away, although his hugs always felt like they were crushing her ribs.  
  
"How have you been?" he demanded to know when he loosened his grip. Rhachsell managed a grin although all the breath had been squeezed out of her.  
  
"I've been fine thank you. How have you been?"  
  
Gimli laughed. "Quite the young lady now aren't we lassie? I've been very well, though I missed you and your father. Tell me," the dwarf leaned conspiratorially towards her. "Did he miss me?"  
  
"Immensely," Legolas answered with a grin, overhearing the dwarf. "Though I'm sure the guards didn't miss trying to teach you archery. I don't think Gilad's thigh has recovered from that wayward arrow yet."  
  
"Cheek!" Gimli exclaimed. "You know perfectly well someone bumped into me as I was aiming! Not my fault at all!"  
  
Legolas cleared his throat. "Of course. How could I forget that someone 'bumped' into you? How silly of me."  
  
Gimli raised his eyebrows at the elf as Rhachsell giggled at their antics. "Well you can talk - last time you tried to use an axe I seem to recall people running screaming away from you."  
  
"That was-" Legolas started to protest but Aragorn intervened, a broad grin on his face.  
  
"Now there will be plenty of time to argue about who is the better weapon's master later. Right now we need to ask Rhachsell something remember?"  
  
"Ah yes." Legolas turned to his daughter. "Rhachsell - how would you feel about a little trip?"  
  
Rhachsell hesitated. Was her father sending her away? "Where too?" he asked guardedly.  
  
"Gondor," Aragorn answered. "You'd be our guest."  
  
Relief swept through Rhachsell. A chance to escape the elves and the insults and the snubs! And... her gaze flickered to Aragorn. It would be a chance to spend more time with Gondor's king.  
  
"Wait!" She suddenly spotted the problem. "What about Faroth?!"  
  
"Faroth would be just as welcome," Aragorn hastened to assure her. "I'm sure he could become quite popular with everyone - I doubt anyone in Gondor has ever seen a real dragon."  
  
Rhachsell smiled, knowing they were all anticipating her answer. "I'd love to go."  
  
There were three, collective sighs of relief. "Well then, that's settled!" Legolas said with a pleased smile at his daughter. "Now off to bed! There will be a lot of arrangements to be sorted out tomorrow."  
  
Aragorn stood up as Rhachsell was turning towards the door. "If you don't mind Rhachsell, I'll walk you to your room. It'll give me a chance to tell you a bit more about Gondor."  
  
Rhachsell nodded slowly, biting back her eagerness. "I don't mind at all."  
  
Legolas and Gimli watched the half-elf and the king of Gondor leave the room in confusion. "What was *that* about?" Gimli asked after the door had closed behind the pair.  
  
"I have absolutely no idea," Legolas confessed. "But I think whatever it is it's between Rhachsell and Aragorn."  
  
*  
  
Rhachsell and Aragorn walked in silence for a few steps, Rhachsell wondering why Aragorn had offered to walk with her and Aragorn thinking about what he was going to say. After a moment he said nonchalantly, "I saw you hiding earlier."  
  
He *had* seen her. Rhachsell swallowed. "So?" she asked, trying to sound calm. Aragorn's eyes narrowed and her turned to look at her.  
  
"So, why? Legolas said you'd come to meet us - what happened?"  
  
Rhachsell shrugged, wishing her cheeks would stop burning in embarrassment. "I just didn't feel up to meeting you."  
  
Aragorn's eyes narrowed further. "I'm not stupid Rhachsell." He sighed suddenly. "I don't mind if you'd rather not say. But I'd like you to be honest with me, especially if you'll be living in Gondor for a while. We don't want to be avoiding each other for months."  
  
Rhachsell silently debated how much to reveal to the ranger. Faroth suddenly volunteered his opinion.  
  
/"Why not tell him the truth?"/  
  
/"Oh that I'd willingly jump off a mountain for him if he asked because I think he's the most wonderful person in the world?"/ Rhachsell answered sarcastically in mind-speech. /"Good suggestion Faroth, I'll think about it. I've thought about it. Absolutely NOT!!"/  
  
/"I meant, why not tell him that you felt intimidated by the elf- woman?"/ Faroth said patiently. /"There's no need to be sarcastic."/  
  
/"Oh. Right. Sorry."/ Rhachsell cleared her throat and Aragorn looked at her expectantly.  
  
"I.." Rhachsell hesitated. "To tell the truth it was the Lady Arwen."  
  
"Arwen?" Aragorn asked in surprise. "She didn't even see you."  
  
"That's why I was hiding, so she didn't see me. Because she was ..." Rhachsell struggled for words. "..perfect. And there I was in a tattered dusty dress and..." She let the words /and half-orc/ trail away but Aragorn knew what she meant.  
  
"Oh Rhachsell." He stopped, putting his hands on her shoulders so she stopped too. "That doesn't matter to us. Arwen isn't like the other elves, she's.. special. She wouldn't have snubbed you, no matter how you looked."  
  
Rhachsell hesitated again. "Really?"  
  
"I'm positive," answered Aragorn. "We're your friends. You should never have to hide from us."  
  
She blinked, throat tight. Suddenly it didn't matter that she was shunned by the other elves, that she wasn't beautiful, that she was half orc. She had friends who cared and who wouldn't let her be alone. She smiled at Aragorn. "Thank you," she said softly.  
  
He nodded. "Remember that we're always here if you need us." He stood up and they walked in silence the rest of the way. 


	4. Illusions

A.N. Once again I apologise for this taking so long - everything seemed to drop on top of me last weekend. Half term next week so hopefully I should be able to get a few more chapters done. This will have to do for now, even though it's slightly short. Thanks for not complaining about me taking so long. *big hugs to her reviewers* I would also like to say: THERE ARE NO MARY-SUES IN THIS FIC! Rhachsell and Faroth should remain the *only* major Original Characters and Legolas will not be meeting any mysterious elf girl, falling madly in love and getting married to her, or any other version of that scenario. Where possible I'll use a character from Tolkien, if not then original characters will remain with small roles and NOT end up saving Middle-earth or anything like that.  
  
Thanks for your patience. Enjoy!  
  
Cloudy  
  
Disclaimer: See Chapter One.  
  
Chapter Three - Illusions  
  
The forest was silent once more, the hot, breathless air unmoving. A sense of anticipation almost seemed to drift among the dusty trees as a gleam of white shone inexplicably in mid air.  
  
The unicorn materialised slowly, like a ghost fading into view. She walked slowly, picking her feet up high as if the sand was too hot to touch.  
  
There was the tiniest creak of wood as the longbow as drawn tight, but it sounded like a shout in the breathless forest. The unicorn whirled on the spot, ears flat against her head.  
  
A black arrow fletched with white feathers screamed through the air - and went right through the unicorn as if she really was a ghost. The horse-like creature reared up, her hooves sending up clouds of sand, which glittered like diamonds in the sun. As the mini-sandstorm cleared, it revealed a tall silhouette - of a shining woman. There was a strangled gasp and the archer turned to flee.  
  
The woman was on him before he had taken two steps.  
  
*  
  
"Rhachsell!"  
  
/"Oh what now?"/ Faroth asked, impatient to be on their way. Rhachsell hushed him as she turned to see her father leading his white stallion through the crowd towards them.  
  
They had decided to leave at dawn. Unfortunately things were proving more complicated than expected and the sun was now approaching it's zenith, without the ever-growing party of men and elves having moved one step closer to Gondor.  
  
"Are you positive that you've packed everything you'll need?" her father asked anxiously, halting by her side. Rhachsell took a deep breath to quell the scream of frustration rising in her throat. This was the fifth time he'd asked that question. She abandoned the scream and settled for sarcasm.  
  
"Actually I don't think I have packed /everything/. I've left a speck of dust on the floor of my room. Oh horrors, thank the Valar you reminded me. How could I survive without emptying the final speck of dust out my room?!"  
  
Legolas opened his mouth to snap back, then glanced at the ground, half smiling. "I'm sorry. Maybe I have been repeating myself."  
  
Anira poked her head out from under his blond hair with a little chirp as if to say "Absolutely!" Legolas laughed.  
  
"What about Faroth? Is he ready?"  
  
"/"If I was any more ready then I would have left several hours ago,"/ Faroth replied, for once speaking directly to the elf king. Legolas sighed.  
  
"I know. I'm impatient too. But I think we are almost ready now." As he spoke he glanced towards Gimli who was organising everyone at the other end of the crowd. The dwarf saw him looking and waved urgently.  
  
"Gimli looks like he is having trouble," Legolas said with a sigh. "Don't worry Rhachsell, I'm sure we won't take much longer."  
  
"We can't take any longer," Rhachsell muttered darkly as Legolas hurried off towards Gimli. "Or it will be time to come home again."  
  
Faroth mischieviously snapped at the rump of Legolas' stallion as the elf led the horse away. The stallion snorted in terror and plunged forward, almost knocking the elf-king off his feet. The draconic equivalent of laughter echoed round Rhachsell's head as the stallion cast a furious glance back at them.  
  
"Faroth, if you eat Legolas' horse he will be most displeased," a familiar voice remarked in amusement. Faroth swung his head round to look at Aragorn, the dragon's lightly whirling green eyes reflecting in the man's blue ones.  
  
"Faroth wouldn't eat him," Rhachsell protested. "Take a little bite perhaps."  
  
/"I wouldn't eat that horse,"/ Faroth replied. /"It is much more entertaining to annoy him."/  
  
"What did he say?" Aragorn asked curiously. Rhachsell glanced at him, startled.  
  
"How did you know Faroth was speaking to me?" she asked slowly. Aragorn grinned at her.  
  
"You have this look, half-concentration, half-dazed." His expression turned roguish. "And your eyes cross."  
  
Rhachsell blushed. "Oh."  
  
Aragorn shook his head. "It really is too easy to tease you Rhachsell. Don't worry - I've only noticed because-"  
  
"MOUNT UP!" came the cry from the head of the line. Arwen appeared through the crowd, pausing at Aragorn's side to help him up. He jumped to his feet, casting an apologetic look at Rhachsell.  
  
"Sorry Rhachsell, I'm needed up front. We'll have to talk later."  
  
"Of course," she replied, watching as he vanished into the crowd. Arwen cast a look back before Rhachsell lost sight of her, and for a moment elf-blue eyes met orc orange ones. Something ugly flashed through the depths of Arwen Undómiel's crystal blue eyes, enough to make Rhachsell flinch back. Faroth swung his head round in alarm to see what was the matter but Arwen was lost amidst the throng.  
  
/"What happened?"/ her dragon demanded to know. Rhachsell shook her head, exhaling slowly.  
  
"I'm not really sure."  
  
Around them, men and elves were beginning to ride forward, following Legolas and Gimli at the head of the line. Rhachsell hurried to mount Faroth, scrambling over the bulging saddlebags strapped to his sides with some difficulty. She really had packed everything. Faroth looked like he had half the palace hanging off him.  
  
/"You will be able to take off with all this extra weight won't you dear one?"/  
  
/"I'm a dragon, not a mule,"/ was Faroth's disgusted reply. /"I could take off with twice this weight."/  
  
"/"Whatever you say Faroth."/ Rhachsell let her mental tone sound sceptical. Her dragon replied with a snort, tiny puffs of smoke rising from his nostrils. The horses around him skittered nervously away, causing several riders to glare at him.  
  
"Behave," Rhachsell muttered under her breath. Faroth rumbled with annoyance beneath her, but by this time the horses and riders were sufficiently far away not to notice. Crouching, the black dragon leapt upwards and brought down his wings. The blast of air raised by the movement sent clouds of dust billowing up around them but Faroth was already rising above the treetops, albeit slightly slower than usual due to the extra weight. Rhachsell watched the forest unfold beneath her, the horses and riders winding their way through the trees in a long line. The familiar excitement of flying was already rising in her chest.  
  
From the ground, Aragorn, Gimli and Legolas watched the black dragon through the tree canopy as he spread his wings and glided above them. From Legolas' shoulder, Anira chirped softly, wistfully. There was undisguised admiration on Aragorn and Gimli's faces whereas Legolas looked as if he was lost in thought, back on Pern flying on a dragon.  
  
Arwen Undómiel also watched. Her expression was a blank mask but cold hatred burned beneath. 


	5. Campfire Tales

Disclaimer: See Chapter One  
  
Chapter Four - Campfire Tales  
  
"Aren't they beautiful?"  
  
"Legolas, to the elves, all stars are beautiful," Aragorn pointed out, but then he relented. "They are beautiful though, I admit to that." He chewed thoughtfully on the stem of his pipe as he stared into the fire. Beside him, Legolas gazed up at the sky in wonder.  
  
They were camped on the banks of the great river Anduin, not far from the borders of Lothlórien. Tomorrow they would enter Rohan and ride across it, heading for Cair Andros then onto Minas Tirith. Aragorn had made the journey many times and saw no trouble ahead.  
  
Rhachsell was sitting on the outskirts of the camp to allow Faroth room to spread out. She was using him as a backrest, leaning against his side, watching the laughter and activity among the travellers. Faroth rumbled sleepily.  
  
/"Why don't you go and join in?"/  
  
/"They look busy,"/ Rhachsell replied. /"And my father is stargazing again. He won't talk any sense while doing that."/ For Rhachsell, stars were simply stars, useless for seeing with by at night and invisible by day. In this the Orcish side of her had triumphed and she found it impossible to understand the Elves' fascination with the twinkling lights.  
  
/"I think they're quite pretty"/ Faroth remarked, raising his head to study the sky. The stars reflected in the facets of his eyes.  
  
/"You find something that you can't eat pretty?"/ Rhachsell's tone dripped with mock-horror. /"Are you feeling well Faroth?"/  
  
The dragon dropped his head to blow a cloud of hot smoke at her. /"Insolence! Go and speak to your father oh-impudent-rider of mine. He has hardly seen you all day."/  
  
/"As you command master,"/ Rhachsell answered facetiously and in reply got another cloud of smoke in her face. "I'm going! Try not to eat anyone while I'm away."  
  
/"Your father's horse has been giving me nasty looks. If you're not careful I'll eat him and let *you* explain it to Legolas."/  
  
Rhachsell dramatically put her hand over her heart. "Oh! The fear! Faroth, you eat my father's horse and he'll roast you alive."  
  
/"The horse doesn't know that."/  
  
Shaking her head, Rhachsell got to her feet and walked into the camp, threading her way through the tents and people. Legolas and Aragorn were seated by the main campfire. As Rhachsell approached Gimli appeared by her side.  
  
"Ah lassie, how have you been today? I haven't had the chance to speak to you, up there on that great black beast of yours. Tell me, is riding a dragon more comfortable than riding a horse?"  
  
"Absolutely," Rhachsell answered without hesitation. "But it's cold that high up and you have to hold on tight. If you fall off a horse it usually isn't serious but a dragon is a different matter."  
  
They arrived at the campfire side by side and Aragorn glanced up in greeting. "Hello Gimli, Rhachsell. Enjoying the trip so far?"  
  
"What fool invented horse-riding?" Gimli demanded, wincing as he sat down. "We all have legs do we not? What's wrong with walking?!"  
  
"But Gimli, at the pace you walk it would take us years to reach Minas Tirith," Legolas remarked casually and received the handle of Gimli's axe jabbed into his ribs. "Ouch!"  
  
"Now Gimli, if you wish to disembowel Legolas, please do it in the morning when I have the energy to stop you," Aragorn murmured, lying back against his saddlebags. Gimli grunted in disgust but Legolas flashed a quick grin at him before turning to Rhachsell.  
  
"How was your journey my daughter?"  
  
"It was fine," Rhachsell replied. "It's nice to have the opportunity to fly beyond the boundaries of Mirkwood. I think Faroth needed the exercise as well."  
  
"I would say the same for you Legolas," Gimli observed with a grin beneath his beard. "All that sitting around, eating and sleeping - if you'd stayed in your palace much longer you wouldn't be able to draw that bow of yours."  
  
Legolas assumed an expression haughty smugness. "I have no need to reply to that my dwarven friend. No matter how out of condition I get, you know I'll be able to score higher than you in a fight."  
  
"Hah!" Gimli responded. "That was a lucky fluke. I would have killed more Orcs if my chain mail hadn't been so tight. It restricted my swing."  
  
"A bad workman blames his tools." Aragorn murmured around his pipe then quickly ducked away from Gimli's glare. "Perhaps I shouldn't get involved?"  
  
"That may be wise," Rhachsell agreed with a smile and received glares from both her father and Gimli. "Merely an observation."  
  
"Looks like the tents are all up," Aragorn changed the subject as he surveyed the camp. "I wonder where Arwen- ah there she is." He raised his hand to catch his wife's attention and she changed direction to walk towards them. Rhachsell shifted uncomfortably but remained seated.  
  
Arwen was only a few paces away when she noticed Rhachsell, half hidden in the shadows beside the fire. The hesitation in her graceful step was barely noticeable, but Legolas caught it. A faint frown flickered across his face.  
  
Arwen settled herself beside Aragorn, smoothing her skirts absently. "The horses are fine."  
  
"So that was where you vanished too," Aragorn exclaimed, brushing a lock of hair out of her eyes. "I thought you'd run away with one of these handsome guards Legolas insisted on bringing."  
  
Arwen laughed. "No. I just went to see the horses."  
  
/"She's lying,"/ Faroth commented. Rhachsell cast a startled glance back at his dark bulk on the outskirts of the camp.  
  
/"What do you mean?"/  
  
/"She was here looking at me. I would have eaten her"/ and the dragon's tone turned facetious. /"But you told me not to eat anyone."/  
  
/"Looking at you? How?"/  
  
"What does Faroth say Rhachsell?"  
  
Flustered, the half elf glanced up to see Aragorn regarding her curiously. She opened her mouth, mind racing for a reply. She couldn't challenge Arwen Undómiel, especially in front of Aragorn.  
  
"He's asking- he's asking if-"  
  
/"I'm asking if there are going to be songs or if I can go to sleep."/  
  
"- if there are going to be songs," Rhachsell finished. Aragorn raised an eyebrow. "I don't see why not. Legolas?"  
  
"Of course there can be songs." The Elf-king paused. "What shall we sing?" "I don't know." Aragorn shrugged. "Does anyone know something we may not have heard before?"  
  
A smile flashed across Legolas' face. "I remember a certain hobbit singing a song for a certain Dúnadan.."  
  
Aragorn sat up, eyes wide, one hand raised. "No Legolas-" But the elf had already broken into song.  
  
/"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not whither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost.  
  
From the ashes a fire shall be woken, A light from the shadows shall spring; Renewed shall be the blade that was broken The crownless again shall be king,"/  
  
Rhachsell ducked her head to hide her smile at Aragorn's embarrassment. Arwen looked at her husband merrily, mischief dancing in her eyes.  
  
"You didn't say Bilbo had written a song about you."  
  
"How did you know that was Bilbo's song?" Legolas asked. Arwen shook her head.  
  
"It has that Bilbo Baggins feel. I'll remember that one. Well sung Legolas."  
  
/"It was too short,"/ complained Faroth. /"Sing something longer."/  
  
"Faroth wants us to sing something longer," Legolas remarked, having overheard the black dragon's comment. "Arwen? Would you oblige?"  
  
"Would you rather hear a tale of the Lamps of the Valar?" she asked. "Ada* was telling me of them last time I visited Rivendell. It is a beautiful story, although short for time has worn away some of the details."  
  
"That sounds interesting," Aragorn commented. "I'd like to hear it."  
  
There were murmurs of assent from everyone, including Faroth. Arwen sat up and leaned forward, blue eyes reflecting the flickering, dancing firelight.  
  
"In the beginning, when the Valar walked Middle-earth...."  
  
Eá 'the World that Is' was given substance . At this time, the "holy ones,", the Ainur, came, in part, to Middle-earth. Upon taking earthly form, they were divided into two peoples, the Maiar, the lesser powers and the Valar, the fifteen higher powers.  
  
Among the Valar there was strife and discord, but it has been told that despite this, despite the war marring their work, both Valar and Maiar strove to shape the rough form of the World into the perfect beauty of the Vision. And so they created Almaren, the first kingdom of the Valar. It stood on an isle in the middle of a immense, uncharted lake in Middle-earth and for light it had the two, gleaming Lamps, Ormal and Illuin. None now know where Almaren once stood but the Lamps were reputed to stand at the far North and far South of Middle-earth, yet all in between basked in the glow of their light.  
  
It was Varda, the Lady of Stars who filled Ormal and Illuin with the light that lit the world. She was most beautiful of all the Valar, still shining with the light of Illúvator. We Elves have named her Elentari and Elbereth, the 'Star queen' for it was she who created the stars. Her name dispels darkness with light.  
  
Despite Varda's care of the Lamps and the peace and beauty of Almaren, there was one of the Valar who was discontent. He was named Melkor, "He who arises in Might" and his realm was darkness and cold. Like the World's nightmare he moved like a black cloud that brought fear to all who saw it. He brought corruption into the world and it was he who put out the fairest lights in the world when he destroyed the Lamps and plunged Middle-earth into darkness.  
  
Because of Melkor's wars, the Lamps of the Valar are now lost to us, both where they once stood and the mysteries of how they were created. But it has been said that Varda, the Star queen, remains watchful over the ruins of her Lamps and will grant the deepest desire of the one who finds them again. A boon from one of the Valar is not a thing to be laughed at and in the name of this many people have searched Middle-earth only to fail. Middle-earth is too big for anyone to search thoroughly in one lifetime and there are many who would oppose a search. But the Lamps existed once and even Melkor's wrath cannot have erased them completely. The Lamps, or the ruins of them still stand, somewhere. And someday, someone will find them.  
  
Arwen sat back to catch her breath as she finished. Legolas' eyes were wide with curiosity.  
  
"All tales of the Lamps had been lost to us for decades," he said slowly. "How did Elrond find this out?"  
  
"Some ancient writings deep in the cellars at Rivendell," Arwen replied and everyone stared at her in disbelief.  
  
"Parchment would disintegrate," Aragorn pointed out, more than a little sceptically. "Are you sure the writings weren't merely a few centuries old, scribbled down by some over-imaginative scribe?"  
  
"My father thinks they may have been re-written frequently by different people down the ages to preserve them because there were fragments of much older parchment nearby so they may be less accurate now than they were a thousand years ago, but they contained enough detail to be considered fairly correct," Arwen dismissed his doubts. "The Lamps still exist somewhere in Middle-earth but I doubt anyone will ever find them." Her eyes flicked to Rhachsell who frowned slightly at the icy blue gaze. Then the elf queen glanced away, back at the campfire.  
  
"Well if we don't get some sleep tonight then we won't find Gondor because we'll be sleeping on horseback, never mind your legendary Lamps," Gimli pointed out, climbing to his feet. "Who has first watch?"  
  
*  
  
The next morning, Rhachsell was dozing on Faroth's back, having tied herself to his neck ridge first to make sure she didn't fall off. Not far beneath her, because Faroth didn't trust the rope and was staying fairly low, Legolas, Gimli, Aragorn and Arwen were at the head of the line of horses and riders, eyes trained on the horizon.  
  
Faroth's snort woke Rhachsell who started and nearly lost her balance. Faroth hurriedly tilted to one side to help regain her balance, flying in a tight circle. Once Rhachsell had regained her seat, he straightened out, lifting his head to watch the horizon. Following his gaze, Rhachsell caught a gleam of white in the distance.  
  
/"Gondor,"/ said Faroth.  
  
~  
  
* Ada - Dad  
  
A.N. Hey look, another chapter! Hope you liked this one, I didn't have time to check it because I was trying to get it up before college tomorrow. A very plot driven chapter this one, hopefully explaining the title somewhat. Most of this information (because although I have the Simarillion sitting on my shelf, I have yet to find the time to read it) came from the excellent reference book, 'Characters From Tolkien' by David Day. Beautifully illustrated and full of helpful information I'd recommend it to all Tolkien fans.  
  
Bilbo's song about Aragorn was from 'The Fellowship of the Ring' - he sings/recites it in the Council of Elrond.  
  
I'll try and get the next chapter up slightly quicker, but I can't promise anything. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed, especially people who read 'Weyr of the Lost' and have been waiting for the sequel - big hugs to you all! 


	6. Riots

Disclaimer: See chapter one  
  
A.N. Okay, new chapter. Sorry for taking so long - it's a long story, involving me losing the first 1,000 words of the chapter then managing to get them back again and so on. Anyway, this is a long chapter which has been written fairly quickly, so I hope I haven't left anything out.  
  
A few notes to my lovely reviewers at the end of the chapter.  
  
~  
  
Chapter Five - Riots  
Faroth circled lower as they neared Minas Tirith. Rhachsell sensed his apprehension and frowned.  
  
/"Faroth? What's wrong?/  
  
/"I.. I have never been seen outside of the security of your father's realm"/ the dragon replied slowly. /"I am uncertain how these new people will react to my presence."/  
  
Rhachsell nodded thoughtfully. "Why not ask Legolas if we should land? Aragorn recommended you stay outside the city until the people are used to us."  
  
Faroth craned his head down to look at the elf king riding below them. /"Legolas?"/  
  
/"Yes Faroth?"/ Legolas replied, surprised to be directly addressed by his daughter's dragon.  
  
/Am I to stay outside the city when you first enter? Should I land now?"/  
  
/"I think that may be wise,"/ Legolas agreed after a moment's consideration.  
  
Faroth tilted his wings and went into a smooth glide, aiming for the open road in front of the riders. Rhachsell leaned back against the descent, the wind streaming through her hair, stinging her eyes and cheeks. She ignored it, enjoying Faroth's flying too much.  
  
On the ground, Aragorn glanced over at Legolas. "Was Faroth talking to you?"  
  
"How did you know?' Legolas looked at his friend with raised eyebrows.  
  
"You had the same look Rhachsell has when she talks to him. I thought Faroth didn't talk to you?"  
  
Legolas' expression turned wistful. "He is Rhachsell's dragon, linked to her and only her. He speaks to me occasionally, and I can speak to him, but it would be very rude to talk to him like my daughter does. He is not my dragon." From under the elf's blonde hair, Anira chirped comfortingly and nibbled his earlobe. Legolas flinched, but grinned as he reached up to gently detach the fire lizard's beak from his ear.  
  
"But Willerth wasn't..." Aragorn caught the slip as soon as the words left his mouth. Legolas' face went blank and he turned away from his friend to stare at the ground. "I'm sorry Legolas. I didn't mean.. I know you miss Willerth."  
  
"It's fine. Willerth was never my dragon either." Legolas' voice was flat but Aragorn sensed it was only the elf's ironclad control of himself that stopped it trembling. Mentally swearing at himself for bringing up the subject, Aragorn reached across to rest a hand on Legolas' shoulder. "He thinks of you my friend, I'm sure of it."  
  
Legolas glanced over at him and tried to smile. "I hope so."  
  
Rhachsell and Faroth touched down on the road, raising a cloud of dust. Gimli rode up from the back of the line where he had been conversing with Arwen.  
  
"Why have they landed?' the dwarf asked with a frown. "Is there a problem?"  
  
"No, there isn't a problem. We just think Faroth should stay out of sight for a while," Legolas replied. Gimli growled.  
  
"Nothing wrong with Faroth."  
  
"But the people of Gondor don't know that," Arwen commented as she rode up them. "None of the dragons in history have been benevolent. Indeed, they all have worked for evil. There is no reason for them anything different of this one, especially so soon after the Witch-King and his monster."  
  
Legolas cast a sharp glance at Arwen. "Faroth looks very different to anything the Nazgul ever rode."  
  
"Not to frightened and panicking Men," Arwen answered, her Elvish pride showing through. Legolas hesitated.  
  
Gimli muttered something under his breath about Elves and their pride inferring with common sense then dismounted with great difficulty. He grabbed the reins of his horse before it wandered off and turned to greet Rhachsell who was walking towards them.  
  
"Looks like I won't be getting that dragon ride just yet eh?' he greeted her with a smile. "Does Faroth mind staying behind?'  
  
"Not really. He isn't sure how people will react to him in the city." Rhachsell glanced back at her dragon who was regarding her solemnly with rainbow coloured eyes. "He would like to see the city though."  
  
"He will," Legolas assured her. "Once we've warned the people in the city what to expect he will be welcome."  
  
Rhachsell nodded, suddenly reluctant to abandon her dragon. Sensing her conflict, Legolas dismounted smoothly, earning an envious look from Gimli for the manoeuvre. The elf king rested a hand on his daughter's shoulder.  
  
"I'll leave Anira here with him," he suggested and abruptly Rhachsell felt better. If Legolas was willing to leave his precious fire lizard behind then he must know how she felt. She nodded slowly.  
  
"Okay."  
  
Raising his hand to his neck, Legolas lifted the fire lizard down so he could look at her. She chirped curiously, sitting up to stare at him with blue-green eyes.  
  
"Anira, stay with Faroth do you understand? Don't come until I call for you." The bronze-dappled fire lizard chirped again and took off, gliding over to the black dragon. She landed on his neck ridge, clinging with tiny talons. Faroth shifted his weight.  
  
/"She tickles."/  
  
"Right." Legolas left his hand on Rhachsell's shoulder as he turned towards his horse. "Rhachsell do you mind riding with me?"  
  
There was a contemptuous snort from Faroth that made all the horses jump and Anira scold him with a high pitched whistle. Rhachsell grinned.  
  
"I'm sure your horse will be fine."  
  
/"I'll eat him one day"/ Faroth muttered as Aragorn helped Rhachsell up behind her father. Legolas' stallion stamped a hoof as if he had heard the black dragon's comment.  
  
The group reformed into a line once everyone was mounted, then there was a long pause. Faroth looked at them in confusion.  
  
/"Shouldn't you be going somewhere?"/  
  
/"We'd love to dear one,"/ Rhachsell said pointedly. /"But you're in our way."/ The black dragon's bulk was blocking the road in front of them.  
  
/"Oh yes."/ Faroth shuffled away into the trees, manoeuvring between them with difficulty. /"I'll see you soon. Have fun."/  
  
/"I will. Take care."/ Rhachsell watched the dark shadow of her dragon fade into the forest as Legolas' horse broke into a trot. Swallowing hard, she tore her eyes away and looked forward over Legolas' shoulder, towards Minas Tirith.  
  
*  
  
They were recognised immediately by the outer sentries and waved on through the gates in the outer wall, the Rammas Echor as it was called by the people of Gondor. They passed through rich farmlands where people worked in the fields, pausing to watch the newcomers and to bow their heads respectively when they recognised their king. Legolas sensed Aragorn's guards relaxing slightly in the peaceful setting, happy to be home. His own guards remained watchful, but smiled at the children who pointed at them in excitement and whispered about the beautiful elves who travelled with King Elessar.  
  
As they drew closer to the city, Rhachsell watched in wonder as the sun gleamed off the walls, making them glow white. The Tower of Ecthelion shone like a beacon from its place high in the topmost wall, as beautiful as anything she had ever seen among the elves. Aragorn dropped back slightly so he was riding alongside her.  
  
"What do you think of my city Rhachsell?" he asked smiling proudly. Rhachsell shook her head, lost for words.  
  
"It is.. unbelievably beautiful."  
  
Aragorn's expression of pride at her response faded as trumpets rang out from the fast approaching city. He sighed deeply.  
  
"Ah well. Time to be the king again." He let his horse speed up until he was riding at the head of the column. Arwen came up to ride beside him as the guards automatically fell into formation. Legolas, Rhachsell and Gimli were riding just behind Aragorn, flanked by guards. Rhachsell shifted uncomfortably; suddenly the ceremony was making her nervous. She would have much preferred to ride in quietly, unnoticed by anyone, although she now realised that was impossible while they rode with the king.  
  
They approached the main gates that swung back for them, guards lining the long winding road in welcome. Alerted by the trumpets that were still sounding, the people of Gondor were gathering along the road behind the guards in their silver and black uniform, talking and shouting excitedly that King Elessar had returned, that he had come home. Rhachsell tightened her grip on her father and ducked her head, swallowing nervously.  
  
/"Don't worry"/ Faroth told her comfortingly from the forest. /"You will come to no harm with your father and Aragorn there."/ Rhachsell knew her dragon was right, but somehow she hadn't expected so *many* people to be watching them arrive.  
  
As they passed through the great archway, Aragorn's standard, the White Tree of Gondor and the Seven Stars and crown of Elendil above it, was raised from the tower where it rippled proudly in the breeze. Rhachsell watched the gems woven into the cloth glint and shine like stars for a moment, then the crowd pressing in around them caught her attention and she kept her head down.  
  
In the crowd, a man waited patiently for the line of riders to pass before turning to walk after them. He slipped unnoticed through the throng of people, one hand holding something concealed under his billowing cloak. No one saw him turn away from the road and break into a jog, disappearing into one of the city's alleyways, heading for a shortcut.  
  
Gimli grumbled under his breath as the guards stood to attention and saluted Aragorn. "Bloody ceremonies. A simple 'welcome back, did you have a nice trip' would suffice, but no, they have to have the fanfare and 'official' welcome. We won't get any proper food and a place to sit down off these accursed horses for hours now."  
  
Legolas cast a grin at the dwarf. "Why Gimli, anyone would think you didn't like horses."  
  
His only reply was a disdainful growl.  
  
Aragorn was scanning the crowd, keeping a smile fixed on his face as he silently approved of the efficiency of his guards in controlling the excited people. Their party passed through the first three circles with no incident, the cheering, waving people ecstatic to see their king home again. Arwen rode next to him, regally inclining her head to the guards and smiling at the children who ran beside them all the way up the long winding road. There were many people who whispered to each other at the tall, ethereal elves accompanying their king although it was not uncommon for elves to visit the city. More whispers were aimed at Rhachsell's strange appearance and scarred skin. Even a few looks of distaste were directed at her. She didn't notice, keeping her eyes firmly down, away from the watchful crowd.  
  
It happened just as they passed through the fourth gate, where the road narrowed slightly. The guards had to part to allow the king's party through and as they did, a child slipped past them. She ran towards Aragorn, in her excitement not noticing the guards reaching to stop her or her friends left behind. Then abruptly, the realisation she was alone and surrounded by strangers on tall horses hit her and she skidded to a halt, right into the legs of Gimli's horse. The animal reared in surprise and the girl screamed as she saw hooves waving inches from her face. Her mother screamed from the crowd and tried to push through the guards to reach her daughter, her friends trying to hold her back. In the space of a few seconds everything degenerated into utter chaos.  
  
The man who had left the road back in the first circle of the city arrived at his destination, out of breath as he climbed the stairs inside the house. Outside he could hear the screams of the girl and the frightened crowd and he blessed the gods who had sent him such luck. Jogging down the dark hallways, he turned into a room and went immediately to the window, kneeling beside it. From under his cloak he brought out his crossbow and loaded it with quick, methodical movements. Raising it, he sighted down it's length and took careful aim.  
  
Down on the road, Gimli was clinging to his horse like a limpet to a rock, face pale as he desperately tried to swing his mount away from the girl who was still screaming. Legolas controlled his own plunging horse and reached down to drag the girl away from the lethal, kicking hooves, Rhachsell almost losing her balance behind him. Aragorn swung round to see if he could help then one of the guards shouted a warning. He had spotted the figure at the window.  
  
With a curse, the stranger loosed the bolt. It whistled towards Aragorn un-armoured, undefended, vulnerable. The king saw it in the split second before it hit him and his eyes went wide - then a blur of green and bronze flashed in front of him.  
  
Anira shrieked her triumph as she snatched the crossbow bolt from mid- air, its momentum knocking her sideways, into Aragorn, but deflecting the bolt enough for it to thud harmlessly into Aragorn's saddle. The guards were already after the assassin and struggling to control the crowd at the same time. Rhachsell clung to Legolas, eyes wide, fighting to stay calm. Gimli's horse crashed down, hooves striking sparks from the stone, eyes wide and nostrils flared. Legolas picked the girl up and set her in front of him, silently thankful that she was small enough to fit. He turned his horse to hand her back to her mother - just in time to see the first punch thrown in the crowd.  
  
The people had already been restless, excited by their king's return, alarmed by the danger to the little girl. The assassination attempt was the last straw - tempers frayed to breaking point and snapped as the guards forced their way through the people to the house. There was no one person who began the riot, a man shouted, another shook his fist and a woman cried out as a third man punched someone with a sharp crack of flesh on flesh. Aragorn swore under his breath and pushed his horse in front of Arwen's to protect her as their guards pressed around them, swords drawn. Legolas wrapped one arm around the little girl's waist and reached out to steady Gimli with his free hand as the dwarf fought to keep his balance on the skittish horse.  
  
Rhachsell could feel Faroth's alarm. /"What's happening? Do you need me?! I can be there-"/  
  
/"No Faroth!"/ Rhachsell answered urgently. There was no telling what the appearance of a the dragon would do to the wild crowd. /"Stay where you are!"/  
  
/"Anira didn't,"/ Faroth answered, almost sulkily. Rhachsell couldn't reply because the crowd spilled through the guards and crashed into the side of Legolas' horse.  
  
Aragorn tried to restore some order. "STOP!" He roared at the top of his voice and the people nearest him froze, but by now the crowd was making too much noise to hear. Rhachsell could feel herself starting to panic - the crowd had boxed them in against the wall and there was no chance that they could escape through the gate into the fifth circle of the city. Legolas was tense, one hand resting on the hilt of his knife. The girl he held was silent now, eyes wide in fear. Rhachsell managed to convince her fingers to loosen their death grip on Legolas long enough to pat the girl comfortingly on the shoulder.  
  
The assassin was well away by now, safely lost in the riot which the guards were already suspecting him of starting. Anira swooped over the crowd, even her piercing shrieks being lost in the cacophony of noise. Rhachsell glanced up and a thrown knife whistled past her eyes, bare millimetres away. She felt Faroth's fury surge.  
  
/"NO FAROTH DON'T!"/  
  
Too late. Faroth went /between/ to the place he could see through Rhachsell's eyes. Instantly a blast of freezing air swamped the crowd and a roar split the air. In a moment everything had frozen as if paused, the entire crowd turning to stare in horror at the seemingly massive black dragon looming over them.  
  
Aragorn knew he had a fraction of a second in which to act before the crowd stampeded away, probably trampling countless people in the rush. Faroth had landed on the wall above them, using his wings to stay balanced and inadvertently making himself look even bigger as he extended them. Aragorn was right beneath the dragon's elegant head, with gleaming teeth and glowing red eyes that were whirling too fast to make out individual colours. Kicking his feet free of his stirrups in the abrupt silence, Aragorn climbed up onto his horse's saddle and reached out to Faroth who noticed and glanced down.  
  
"HE ISN'T DANGEROUS!" This time Aragorn's voice echoed out across the city, catching everyone's attention as he put every effort into making himself heard. Still the crowd was poised, ready for flight. "HE BELONGS TO THE DAUGHTER OF KING LEGOLAS." Aragorn's throat was hurting from shouting, so instead he reached up and scratched Faroth's eye ridge and automatically the black dragon bent his head to the touch, apparently submitting to Aragorn. A sigh of wonder rose up from those closest as Faroth brought his wings down, settling himself firmly on the wall. The guards were as amazed as everyone else, but they were already moving through the crowd, separating people who bore obvious marks of fights, calming the crowd further. The tension eased, then Anira flew over their heads to land on Legolas' shoulder with a chirp. People watched in disbelief as the elf handed the little girl back to her mother and reached up to stroke the fire lizard's head. Anira bent her head to the caress, just like Faroth. At the sight a sigh rose up and all the crowd relaxed. Aragorn, still balanced on his horse's saddle and being held steady by Arwen and Gimli knew they had averted disaster just in time.  
  
Rhachsell glanced up at her dragon. /"That was very risky Faroth."/  
  
/"I know"/ the dragon replied smugly. /"But it worked."/  
  
/"Only just"/ Rhachsell cautioned and leaned against her father, the adrenalin wearing off and leaving her exhausted. Legolas turned to look at her anxiously.  
  
"Are you hurt? Is that why Faroth came, as thankful as I am that he did?"  
  
"No, I'm fine," Rhachsell answered shakily. "I think it was really Anira who saved the day."  
  
Legolas glanced over at the cross bow bolt his fire lizard had deflected into Aragorn's saddle. "It could have been much worse, I agree."  
  
"I'll second that," Aragorn murmured.  
~  
A.N. Comments to reviewers:  
  
~ Andtauriel Longwood Baggins: You're right about the scales - Faroth was built more on the 'traditional' idea of the dragon and that involved having scales. It was a good way to differentiate him from the Pernese dragons too. Well spotted! I did debate putting quotation marks at the beginning and end of the story, but I wanted it to stand out from the rest of the text as if it was from a book or scroll. Maybe you're right, I should have put quotation marks in. Thanks! And the Ilúvatar - yeah, my spell check keeps telling me I've spelled all these words wrong when I know they're right, so I don't check them as carefully as I should. I'll try in future. Thanks for commenting and telling me what you think - I love hearing from everyone, especially if they have a good knowledge of Tolkien like you. ^-^  
  
~  
  
San the Insane: The reason for Arwen telling the tale a bit briefly was that she didn't have all the details of it. Keeping in mind the events she talked about took place thousands of years ago, before even Galadriel and Elrond were born, she told it to the best of her knowledge. Thanks though for pointing it out, I know elves do tend to embellish their stories so maybe I should have made the reason for it being short clearer. Thanks for commenting!  
  
~  
  
Thanks to all my other reviewers, Songbreeze the Omnipresent, Evil-Mollusc and Anita - I hope you like the latest chapter and hopefully the next one will be here soon. Hugs and cookies to you all! 


	7. Harsh Words

Disclaimer: See Chapter One  
  
A.N. I apologise for how appallingly long it has taken me to post this chapter. I was working on something else and didn't realise how long it was taking. *looks sheepish*  
  
I also apologise for the lack of Legolas in this chapter. I think my Leggy muse is on holiday. Don't worry, he'll be back in Chapter Seven. This chapter is very important although not very much action takes place, it's more exposition and plot-furthering. Bear with me; it'll all become clear in the next few chapters I hope.  
  
I missed saying thank you to two other reviewers in the last chapter who emailed me rather than reviewing: Eirual and Student Liz who are wonderful. I love feedback as much as anyone else and it's always nice to get emails from people who like what you do.  
  
Finally, thank god for the Appendices in Return of the King. Elvish translations in this chapter will be provided at the end.  
  
Enjoy!  
  
Cloudy  
Chapter Six - Harsh Words  
Rhachsell tiptoed through the silent Citadel, marble floor cool under her bare feet. One hand held the skirt of her blue gown up so she wouldn't trip; from the other dangled pale blue dancing slippers, adorned with tiny jewels. Strands of blonde hair escaped from under the silver tiara on her head which shone in the flickering torchlight. Aragorn had seen her looking longingly at it earlier where it sat on the brow of a marble statue of Luthién. With a smile he had lifted it down and asked her to wear it to the banquet that evening. Speechless, Rhachsell had taken the delicate thing with a nod of acquiesce. Now she pushed it back slightly with the back of the hand that held her slippers to stop it falling over her eyes.  
  
She slipped past some guards as they talked, melting back into the shadows between the lamps, waiting until the Men had passed her hiding place. Silently she crossed the corridor, went through a small door and was outside under the stars, the white paving stones cold despite the balmy night air. Lightly she ran across the yard, past a tinkling fountain and a glimmering white tree to where Faroth' lay, tail curled around his talons so he would fit between the walls.  
  
/"Tired of dancing"/ the dragon asked in amusement as his rider climbed onto his left foreleg so she could lean back against his chest.  
  
/"No,"/ Rhachsell answered contentedly. /"But my slippers started to pinch and I had run out of people to dance with. And all the people there were too loud."/  
  
/"I know,"/ the dragon said ruefully. /"I could hear them. It's much nicer out here."/  
  
/"That it is,"/ Rhachsell agreed, glancing over at the white tree which shone faintly in the starlight. It was laden with blossoms that perfumed the air sweetly, soft petals as white as snow. One fell from it's flower and the night breeze caught it, sweeping it towards Rhachsell. She reached out to catch it, closing her hand gently around the white folds. As she ran careful fingers over it the perfume of flowers grew stronger.  
  
/"This is the sapling Father was telling us about,"/ Rhachsell tried to remember the conversation that had taken place months ago. /"He called it something.."/  
  
/"He said it was of the line of Nimloth,"/ Faroth supplied helpfully.  
  
/"That was it."/ Rhachsell slipped the petal into a pocket of her gown. /"I should keep this."/  
  
/"I agree."/ Faroth breathed hotly down the back of her neck. /"The line of Nimloth is far older than you or I."/  
  
They sat in silence for some minutes, Rhachsell listening to her dragon's quiet breathing and the sweet sound of the fountain. They had hardly had the chance to be alone together since their arrival in Minas Tirith ten days ago. Those days had passed for Rhachsell in a whirl of people, places and names.  
  
Tonight was the third banquet since they'd arrived, complete with dancing, musicians and exotic food. The visitors were the centre of attention, especially Legolas with Anira. Rhachsell had thankfully faded into the background somewhat since Faroth was too big to fit inside the Citadel. Most people tended not to associate the quiet, ugly elf with the looming black dragon who had quelled a riot.  
  
Yet underneath all the fun, the parties and the exuberance, Rhachsell was perceptive enough to notice the extra security. She had been forbidden to leave the Citadel without a large escort; even inside she had 'shadows', two guards who tracked her every move. She looked for them now and found them waiting discreetly by the doors. The white tree emblem on their black uniforms glimmered in the starlight as did their mithril helms. Rhachsell felt a twinge of irritation at their presence; she had thought herself alone with her dragon.  
  
/"It is for you own protection,"/ Faroth chided her gently for her annoyance. /"They don't trust me to protect you although I am more than capable. King Elessar was nearly killed by that assassin less than a fortnight ago. You cannot blame him for his caution."/  
  
Rhachsell stifled a sigh because she had to agree with her dragon's words. She often watched Aragorn when she had the chance, noting how differently he acted here in his palace to how he did outside Gondor. Here he was king; stately, noble, aloof, treating his subjects with stern kindness. There was no trace of the wise ranger who could make Rhachsell laugh with his sly jokes. In fact the half-orc had been rather intimidated by the change until the night of the first banquet. She had been sitting quietly in her chair, sipping some water because she hated the taste of wine. Aragorn was across the room talking to some nobles, appearing happy and relaxed in his home. Rhachsell watched him surreptitiously, noting the way he absently trailed a finger around the rim of his wine glass as he talked. Then, as the nobles turned away to dance, the king's mask of calm slipped for the briefest of moments and the former ranger's face sank into tired lines, infinite weariness in his eyes. Then Arwen touched his shoulder to catch his attention and from her seat across the room, Rhachsell watched the mask snap back into place. She had mulled over the moment for the rest of the night and had come to the conclusion that, as king, Aragorn was forced to hide his anxiety from others, but that didn't make him any less able to cope with it.  
  
Aware of his rider's thoughts, Faroth rumbled pensively. /"Maybe he just needs to relax."/  
  
/"We should do something for him,"/ Rhachsell said impulsively, then hesitated. /"But what could we do that he hasn't already done?"/  
  
/"Something that doesn't involve the icy one?"/ Faroth's voice was as close to begging as he could get. /"She makes me uncomfortable."/  
  
/"Arwen makes me uncomfortable too sweetheart."/ Rhachsell ran a hand over her dragon's shining scales. /"I don't think she likes us being here, no matter what Aragorn says. She reminds me of the Elven ladies back home who refused to talk to me because I'm only half elf."/  
  
/"Their loss,"/ Faroth snorted. /"You are the only dragon rider in Middle-earth. On Pern those elves who snub you wouldn't last ten minutes."/  
  
An image of the elves who were vying for her father's hand, running screaming away from the huge bronze Mnementh brought a smile to Rhachsell's face. /"I like that idea Faroth. We should look into it sometime."/  
  
A draconic chuckle echoed her words as Rhachsell turned back to the problem of Aragorn. She couldn't afford to buy him a gift and there was nothing he didn't have anyway.  
  
/"Wait."/ Faroth said suddenly. Rhachsell glanced up.  
  
/"What?"/  
  
/"Why not offer him a dragon ride? He's love to see his city from the skies."/  
  
"Brilliant Faroth!" Rhachsell exclaimed. She slid off her perch, wincing at the cold stone - Faroth's hide had warmed her feet. She hurriedly pulled on the slippers, wriggling her toes to make them pinch less. Patting Faroth's shoulder, she grinned at him, loving the way his eyes sparkled blue in the dusky night. /"I'll be right back."/  
  
/"Hurry. I haven't stretched my wings properly for days."/  
  
Rhachsell ran towards the door, trailing a hand through the fountain as she passed. Faroth watched the silvery drops scatter behind her as she disappeared into the Citadel, then shifted his weight, standing up. Unfolding his wings, careful not to knock the White Tree, he waited patiently for Rhachsell to return.  
*  
As she ran through the corridors, Rhachsell was only half aware of her shadows still tailing her, but some, pedantic part of herself was annoyed. She didn't want them hearing her surprise for Aragorn because it would be all over the city by tomorrow. She toyed with the idea of losing them but they knew the Citadel better than she did and no doubt she only end up getting lost herself. Then she remembered a trick of Faroth's and grinned.  
  
/"Faroth,"/ she called to her dragon. /"Could you lift me to here?"/ She gave him a mental picture of the hallway outside Aragorn's rooms.  
  
/"Of course."/ Rhachsell felt the familiar disorientation of being 'ported' by her dragon, then the hallway blurred and refocused. She stumbled on landing, almost falling to the thick carpet.  
  
/"Sorry"/ Faroth apologised. /"I misjudged the height."/  
  
/"I don't mind Faroth."/ Rhachsell caught her balance and stood up, casting only a cursory glance around at the richly decorated hallway. It wasn't until her hand was poised to knock on the elegant doors that she remembered the banquet.  
  
/"Oh no Faroth, Aragorn won't be here. He'll still be in the hall dancing-"/  
  
She didn't have time to finish before she heard the voices. Orc- instinct took over and she dived for the nearest hiding place - through the doors into Aragorn's rooms.  
  
Heart beating, she looked hurriedly around. There was little chance of the speakers entering the rooms but in case they did she should hide. If she was found here it would lead to no end of awkward questions.  
  
Still panicked, she ran towards the large four poster bed and dived under it. The thick covers hung almost to the floor, hiding her but still leaving her a tiny gap to see through, although if anyone entered she would only be able to see their feet.  
  
A minute passed and she began to relax. Perhaps the speakers had gone by. Perhaps they hadn't even turned down this corridor. She inched towards the edge of the bed.  
  
There was a click as the door handle turned and Rhachsell barely had time to scramble back under cover before it opened. She crouched, trembling at the close escape and aware she could still be discovered. Trying to calm her beating heart and breathe as lightly as she could, Rhachsell waited.  
  
"Arwen, I simply don't understand your animosity towards her," one of the speakers was saying as he entered. Rhachsell's heart plummeted and she had to stuff her fist into her mouth to stop an exclamation of dismay. It was Aragorn, and even worse, Arwen was with him. If she was discovered now the recriminations would be unbelievable, not to mention the embarrassment.  
  
"I would have thought you of all people would understand Estel*," Arwen's voice said coldly. Rhachsell watched two pairs of feet enter, one in smart black boots, the other in jewelled white dancing shoes. The latter paused to shut the door while Aragorn paced across the room.  
  
/"I can lift you out"/ Faroth offered and Rhachsell almost wept with relief. Of course her dragon could lift her out. She could be back in the courtyard in seconds.  
  
"She isn't what you think Arwen," said Aragorn's voice, a hint of irritation in his tone. "You cannot judge someone by their lineage. Did not you yourself tell me I was not Isildur? Rhachsell is not her ancestors."  
  
Under the bed, the half-orc stiffened. They were talking about her! Torn between leaving and staying, she closed her eyes in agony over the decision.  
  
"You are Man, not Orc or Elf," Arwen replied angrily. "I don't expect you to understand. I am amazed Legolas doesn't though."  
  
"Legolas had the same attitude as you when he first met his daughter," Aragorn answered calmly. "Then he realised what I've been trying to tell you, Rhachsell is different. She is half-elf, as much elf as she is Orc, if not more. You don't object to elves who are half Men."  
  
"That is entirely different and you know it!" Arwen snapped. "Men are not twisted or defiled - although sometimes I wonder."  
  
Rhachsell flinched, as much as the insult to Aragorn as the one to her. But the king was not deterred.  
  
"There is no need for that," he said quietly. "I am king here and it is my right to decide who guests in my house. Rhachsell will stay Arwen, and what's more, you will stop this foolish snubbing of her. She is a guest and a friend, not an enemy."  
  
"But she belongs to the enemy!" Arwen hissed. "How many Orcs have you killed Aragorn? How many has Legolas killed? And yet you willing accept one of them into our midst! She does not belong with us!"  
  
"And where do you belong Arwen Undómiel?" Aragorn was losing patience, an edge appearing in his voice. "With your people, in the Undying Lands. Yet you stayed, for me and your people do not ostracise you for that. You could say Rhachsell does not belong with us, yet we accept it for we are glad of her presence! Like I usually am of yours"  
  
Even Rhachsell winced at the comment and she actually heard Arwen gasp. Aragorn's pacing hesitated, almost as if he himself couldn't believe what he had said.  
  
"Look." His tone was quiet now, apologetic. "I know why the elves hate the Orcs, I know why you in particular hate them. But that's in the past and much has changed. Do not let history cloud your judgement love. The past cannot rule our lives."  
  
There was a brief silence. Rhachsell was beginning to relax, on the verge of asking Faroth to lift her to safety when Arwen spat out a sentence in Elvish.  
  
"Onen i-Estel Edain, û-chebin est el anim."*  
  
Rhachsell's elf hearing caught the hitch in Aragorn's breath. "Why do you speak those words Arwen?" he asked sharply. The Elf Queen wandered across the room before replying, Rhachsell eye's tracking her feet as they passed by the bed.  
  
"The last words your mother spoke to you." Arwen's voice was light, lilting, as if she spoke of something inconsequential. Yet venom lingered underneath. "You were devastated by her death, were you not?"  
  
"Arwen, I don't see what-" Aragorn started, voice unsteady. Arwen cut him off.  
  
"Do you know how it feels to have your mother stolen from you without even a chance to say goodbye Estel? Do you? How it feels to sit and wonder if she lives or dies, if you will ever see her again and if you do, what her face will look like when the Orcs are through with her? If it was your mother Estel, who had been beaten and defiled by /Rhachsell's/ ancestors, could you accept her so easily?"  
  
"I don't- it doesn't -" Aragorn broke off and sat down heavily on the bed, springs creaking. Rhachsell didn't notice; she was riveted on what Arwen was saying, horrified curiosity keeping her frozen in place.  
  
"Well could you?" Arwen demanded, sensing she had the upper hand. "My mother's body was rescued but her spirit was not and it was Orcs who did that too her. She looked at me and her eyes were empty. Empty of light, empty of life. If your mother, Gilraen who you loved with all your heart looked at you that way, would you forgive the creatures that had done it to her?"  
  
The silence that followed was unbearably heavy with tension. Rhachsell, tears soaking her cheeks, waited in agony, straining to hear the king's response.  
  
"No," Aragorn finally, softly, admitted, his tone pained. "I could not forgive them."  
  
A sob rose dangerously in Rhachsell's throat. /"Get me out of here Faroth."/  
  
Her dragon 'lifted' her so swiftly it made her dizzy. She lost the silver tiara along the way, the force of her travel knocking it from her hair. Then she was stumbling against her dragon, smooth scales beneath her hands as she scrambled up his side.  
  
The moment she was seated the black dragon took off, strong wing beats scattering petals from the White Tree. Like an arrow he shot skywards and only when they were high above Gondor did he tentatively venture a query.  
  
/"Where are we going?"/  
  
/"Anywhere,"/ Rhachsell answered bitterly. /"As long as it's so far away I never have to come back."/  
~  
  
Estel - Hope (what the elves call Aragorn)  
  
"Onen i-Estel Edain, û-chebin est el anim."* - I gave Hope to the Dúnedain, I have left no hope for myself 


	8. Running

A.N. I'm not even going to attempt to apologise for not updating for this long because I doubt even grovelling will make up for it. *grovels* Suffice to say exams, muses and various other things got in the way, but now hopefully updates should return to every two-four weeks depending on the chapter length and other interference.  
  
A few dedications for this chapter: first to 'The Ill-Made Mute' by Cecilia Dart-Thornton which really helped me think from Rhachsell's point-of-view. It's a wonderful book and I strongly recommend it.  
  
To the wonderful Encyclopedia of Arda for giving me info on cows and rabbits when I needed it. For all your Middle-earth queries I'd recommend it.  
  
And finally, to all you readers, who haven't found me, tied me to a chair and pelted me with rotten fruit to make me write more. You deserve a writer who updates more often and I'll really try from now on. ^_^ To prove it another chapter will uploaded within the next few hours - it's in the works as I type this.  
  
Few final things: To Bleeding Black and White: I explained Anira's colour as an effect of the travel between worlds at the end of 'Weyr of the Lost'. It was mainly because I was torn between giving Legolas a green or a bronze firelizard. ^__^  
  
Yes I do hate movie-Arwen, one of the few things I dislike about the movies. However I like book-Arwen (nowhere near as cool as Eowyn but still better than Liv Tyler) and I've attempted to make Arwen slightly more likeable in this chapter, even if she does... *reminds herself not to give the plot away* So I've tried to give Arwen a better reason for her actions.  
  
Hopefully you'll enjoy this chapter, and keep an eye out for the next one to be uploaded in the next few hours.  
  
Thanks for your patience!  
  
Cloudy  
  
~  
  
Chapter Seven - Running  
  
"Legolas! LEGOLAS!"  
  
The elf stirred and blinked sleep-glazed eyes. The yelling from outside the door was accompanied by someone banging their fist enthusiastically - or desperately - against the solid wood. Legolas swung out of bed, ignoring his crumpled clothes and stalked over to see what the emergency was.  
  
He yanked the door open more violently than was really necessary - he hated being woken early - and Aragorn stumbled past him, almost tripping over his feet. Legolas' irritation vanished instantly when he noticed the man's tangled hair, unshaven face, heavy panting suggesting he'd run to Legolas' rooms. It looked like Aragorn had been dragged out of bed too.  
  
"What's wrong?" the elf king asked warily. Wine may not affect elves like it affected men but he'd still drunk far too much last night and Aragorn had been several glasses ahead of him by the time he'd finally retired to his rooms. If something had gotten the king up this early then that something was going to be trouble.  
  
"Rhachsell," Aragorn gasped as he caught his breath and Legolas' heart plummeted. Gondor's king glanced up at the elf, eyes haunted.  
  
"She's gone."  
  
Legolas had to wait for a moment to let the words sink in. Rhachsell. Gone. Again.  
  
"Wh- who-," he started, forcing himself to ask but Aragorn shook his head, holding up a hand to stop the elf.  
  
"We don't know, but if someone kidnapped her then they've managed to take Faroth as well - and that would be impossible."  
  
Legolas swallowed, fist clenching his sides. "Then how-"  
  
"Legolas," Aragorn cut him off and swallowed. "I - Arwen and I - we had an argument last night, in our rooms. I said some things I never would have said in front of Rhachsell. I thought - we were alone! I couldn't have known."  
  
"Known what?!" Legolas' voice was icy. Aragorn swallowed again and reached into his tunic pocket. When he withdrew his hand, it was clenched around a silver tiara.  
  
"It was under the bed," Gondor's king said softly. "Rhachsell wasn't kidnapped Legolas - she ran. Because of me."  
  
The elf-king stared at him for a long moment, then turned and walked towards the door.  
  
"Where're you going?" Aragorn asked hesitantly, already knowing the answer. The look Legolas cast back at him was full of contempt.  
  
"I'm going to find my daughter."  
  
~  
  
Rhachsell was cold and tired and still hurt when Faroth began to spiral downwards. /"Faroth! What are you doing?"/ she demanded furiously. /"We have to get as far away as we can!"/  
  
/And you falling off and breaking your neck will accomplish that how?"/ the dragon replied calmly. /You need sleep and food, in that order."/ They'd left Minas Tirith over three hours ago and the sky in the east was streaked with rose and gold - dawn was less than an hour away.  
  
"Food would be good," Rhachsell mumbled aloud, for the first time since her escape feeling a cramp of hunger. Faroth back-winged and landed lightly beside a small wood.  
  
/"Sleep first."/ The dragon crouched to let her slide off, folding his wings so they didn't snag on the nearest tree. /"I'll see what I can catch for us to eat."/  
  
"We'll need a fire-" Rhachsell yawned mid-sentence and Faroth turned his head to give her a sharp nudge towards the trees.  
  
/"Go sleep. I'll take care of food and fire."/  
  
/"Thanks Faroth."/ Rhachsell yawned again as she stumbled into the wood, glancing around for somewhere comfortable. Choosing a hollow at the base of a tall tree, she lay down, half burying herself with handfuls of leaves, and was asleep almost instantly.  
  
Outside the wood, Faroth waited until his rider's thoughts calmed to a sleepy murmur before taking off again. He circled the wood once to fix the place in his mind then let the wind blow him south towards the open fields now glowing golden in the approaching sunrise.  
  
Surprised, he noted a small village on the horizon - barely visible from this distance but he caught faint smells of cooking fires and livestock. If he had no luck hunting perhaps they could beg some food there later. Turning his attention to the ground, he watched for movement.  
  
A short while later he had two rabbits and a slightly charred blackbird that had mocked him when he missed his dive for a weasel. Feeling vaguely guilty for loosing his temper but very smug at his catch, he snared the three corpses in his talons and soared off back to the wood, enjoying the morning sun on his back.  
  
~  
  
Legolas stamped down the corridor, partly out of anger and partly to get his foot into his left boot - he had dressed in a hurry and for once he didn't care that his tunic was creased and his hair tangled. Anira fluttered around his head, occasionally diving at people who got in the way with furious shrieks. All around them were busy servants, hurrying guards, all on some personal quest or involved in some menial job. Legolas ignored them; didn't even see them until he reached the courtyard where Faroth had slept and saw a guard looking around.  
  
Striding up to the unsuspecting man, the Elf-king grabbed him by his tunic and slammed him against the side wall, lifting him several inches off the ground. "Were you on duty last night?!"  
  
The man's face was swiftly turning purple. "I-argh-'es." His eyes frantically tracked Anira as she hovered above his head, hissing like an enraged cat.  
  
"Did you see my daughter leave?!"  
  
The man's gaze flicked from the fire lizard to the enraged elf, his hands scrabbling desperately for purchase on the smooth stone at his back. "Umph.'o."  
  
"What?!!"  
  
".No.argh."  
  
Legolas slammed him against the wall again. /"Why not?!"/  
  
The oxygen-deprived guard was beginning to see spots dancing in front of his eyes, but managed to lift a hand and point to a guard sitting slumped beside the tinkling fountain.  
  
Dropping the man he held, Legolas turned and reached the fountain in a few strides. Reaching down he hauled the guard to his feet.  
  
"Who're you?" he demanded. "Did you see my daughter last night?!"  
  
The guard swallowed, but met the elf's gaze squarely. "I am Nahar. I was assigned to guard the Lady Rhachsell along with my partner, Bucca." He pointed to the man Legolas had half-strangled, now sitting slumped against the wall, catching his breath. "Last night we followed your daughter out here, where she sat with her dragon for a while."  
  
"Did you hear what they said?" demanded Legolas. Nahar managed to look highly offended, despite the fact the elf was lifting him almost off the ground and his face was half buried in his tunic.  
  
"We are trained King's guards," he answered stiffly. "We don't eavesdrop on private conversations."  
  
Legolas mentally swore in a mixture of Elvish and Westron - he wanted to know if Rhachsell had been planning this escapade or if it had really been caused by Aragorn. "Continue."  
  
Nahar swallowed again, wishing the elf would put him down. "After a while - about twenty minutes or so - she left the dragon and came back inside, apparently heading back to the banquet hall so we followed her. A minute later..." He trailed off uncertainly.  
  
"What?!" demanded Legolas.  
  
"She vanished. One minute she was walking, the next she simply wasn't there anymore."  
  
Legolas frowned, deep in thought. "Faroth," he muttered under his breath then reluctantly released his hold on Nahar's tunic. With a sigh of relief the guard stood up straight.  
  
"What did you do then?" the Elf-king asked, slightly more courteous now he knew Rhachsell had avoided the guards deliberately. Nahar cleared his throat.  
  
"Well we didn't really know what had happened, so Bucca went in search of King Aragorn while I returned here to check on the dragon. As I opened the door I saw him take off with the Lady Rhachsell - I assumed they were just going out for a short flight, I never thought.. I mean why.."  
  
"Which way did she go?!" Legolas snapped urgently, fighting the desire the shake the guard. Nahar pointed north-west towards Rohan.  
  
"That's as good a direction I could see in the dark. They could have circled and gone south once they were out of sight." Miserably the man dropped his eyes to the ground. "I'm sorry Lord Legolas."  
  
Legolas didn't even hear him - the elf was already turning away towards the palace stables. Ten minutes later there was a clatter of hooves on stone and a lone rider galloped away towards the north gate of the city.  
  
~  
  
"My lord!"  
  
Aragorn flinched, anticipating bad news as he turned from the maps spread over the table. Around him his advisors glanced up anxiously. "What now?!"  
  
The messenger stumbled into the throne room and sank to his knees on the floor, too out of breath to bow. "King Legolas just left the city on horseback!"  
  
The news took a moment to sink in. "That's all we need!" Aragorn groaned and gathered up the maps hastily, scattering a few to the floor. Lindir, his Lord Chamberlain, hesitantly cleared his throat.  
  
"My lord, where are you going?" he inquired mildly. "Lord Legolas was a guest and rude as it is to leave the Citadel without your permission, if you go chasing after him like a wayward child, the people will be most unsettled. You were almost killed two weeks ago - anything out of the ordinary now could cause chaos."  
  
By the door the messenger crouched lower, hoping to avoid notice as he listened interestedly to the argument.  
  
"Then what I am to do, sit here kicking my heels until I die of old age or boredom?" Aragorn snapped. "Legolas is my friend; I /must/ help him find his daughter!"  
  
"At the expense of your kingdom?" demanded Agrippa, the general in charge of the city guards. "You are /King/. You have higher responsibilities than a runaway child!"  
  
Aragorn looked beseechingly around at his assembled advisors and found most nodding at what Lindir and Agrippa had said. Furious, he flung the maps away, rounding on the men, angry because he knew they were right.  
  
"You're supposed to be my advisors, not my nursemaids! Do not tell me what I can /not/ do, tell me what I an!" He lowered his voice, aware he had been almost shouting. "What excuse can I give for leaving the city now?"  
  
Uneasy looks were exchanged and Aragorn narrowed his eyes dangerously. Eventually Lindir spoke.  
  
"I suppose. you could say you were visiting Lord Faramir in Emyn Arnen," he said dubiously. "For his aid in helping you find the assassin..."  
  
"Do it!" Aragorn ordered, turning to leave the room. "I'll be in my rooms if you need me before I leave. Have my horse and a score of guards ready to leave within the hour."  
  
"But my lord-"  
  
/"Just do it!"/  
  
"Of course milord."  
  
Aragorn strode out the room, past the messenger who bowed respectfully with a murmured, 'My lord," and down the hallway towards his rooms. With a furtive glance towards the advisors now gathered anxiously together, the messenger slipped out the room and jogged briskly off in the opposite direction to Aragorn.  
  
~  
  
Aragorn slammed the door to his room open, venting his frustration on the painted wood. It left a dent in the plaster of the wall as it bounced off and the king frowned, half guilty, half relieved that it had made him feel better.  
  
"If you've quite finished destroying the Citadel.."  
  
Arwen stepped out from behind the bed, smoothing her silvery blue gown as she walked over to her husband. Instead of the welcoming kiss he expected, all he got was an icy blue glare.  
  
"You're leaving." It was a statement, not a question.  
  
"I have to," Aragorn replied, brushing past her. Reaching the wardrobe he opened it and began hunting through the neatly hung clothes impatiently. Pieces of clothing were thrown aside in his haste and Arwen caught one of her shoes as it flew past.  
  
"Aragorn," she said firmly, putting the shoe down on the bed. She got no response - her husband had his head buried under a pile of coats as he looked for his boots. "Estel!"  
  
"Mfph?"  
  
Out of patience, the elf queen strode across the room and hauled him out the cupboard by the back of his jacket. "Listen to me for once! You can't leave."  
  
Aragorn glared at her through the strands of hair that had fallen over his face. "Why not?"  
  
His wife raised an elegant eyebrow, her expression calm and blank. "Just a few weeks ago you were nearly assassinated. If you leave now the people will see it as you running from danger! They'll panic, think you're not telling them everything. There'll be-"  
  
"Chaos! I know!" Aragorn threw the boots in his hand across the room, leaving another dent in the abused wall. "I heard all this once! We've agreed to tell the people I'm visiting Faramir for his help in finding the assassin."  
  
"Oh, and that doesn't sound like the flimsy excuse it so obviously is," Arwen said sarcastically. "And when were you going to ask me about this Estel? You clearly aren't taking me with you again. Don't I get a say in the matter?"  
  
"You don't get a say in the matter since it was your biased and pointless arguing that drove Rhachsell away in the first place!" Aragorn snapped. He regretted the words a second later when Arwen flinched away from him. "Look. I didn't mean-"  
  
"You said it because you meant it" the elf-queen answered softly, rubbing her eyes with the back of one hand. The un-elf-like gesture said far more about her hurt feelings than words could and Aragorn hesitantly slid his arms around her shoulders, drawing her close to him.  
  
"I'm sorry," he said quietly, breathing in the sweet flower-scent of her hair. "It's just Legolas is my friend. and with all these banquets and the assassination attempt my nerves are frayed. I didn't mean to snap at you."  
  
"And what about all the other times you've snapped at me lately?" Arwen pushed him away gently, her expression calm. "All the times you've ignored my advice or refused my requests? I asked you not to bring Rhachsell to Gondor, I asked you not to make me interact with her in any way. You know my family's history. Legolas' daughter.. You've asked me to go against my family's honour by associating with a creature that should never have been and I simply can't do that." Arwen's expressive eyes implored Aragorn to understand. "You're making me chose between my honour and you. I'm alone here - my honour is all I have left Aragorn."  
  
"Arwen."  
  
"No, you don't understand!" The elf turned away in frustration. "I never should have tried to explain - forget I said anything. Leave, again."  
  
Aragorn stood silently for a moment, all his anger gone. "You're wrong you know," he said after a moment.  
  
"Oh REALLY?!" Arwen swung to face him, eyes wide in fury. "How am I wrong?! Because I'm not a man? Because I'm only your wife and therefore not as credible as that useless crowd of advisors who swarm round you? Because I care if my husband vanishes for months to a world filled with dragons while I'm left to explain to your people that you may not be coming home, or because-"  
  
"-because you have more than just your honour left," Aragorn finished softly, catching her slender hands in his. "You have me."  
  
"Do I?" Arwen murmured sadly. "Do I really Estel? Ever since you returned from Pern you've chosen Legolas and his daughter over me."  
  
Aragorn swallowed, suddenly afraid of where the conversation was going. "Arwen, circumstances may have pulled us apart more than we'd like in this past year or so, but you're my wife - no bond of friendship is deeper than that. I'm not /choosing/ anyone!"  
  
"Well maybe it's time you started." Arwen's tone was flat, her blue eyes shadowed as she stared at her husband. "Choose."  
  
There was no hint of humour in those clear eyes; no quiver of a smile on her lips. She was serious. Aragorn looked at her in disbelief.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Choose. Your wife or Legolas."  
  
Aragorn took a step back, dizzy, disbelieving. "Arwen, I can't-"  
  
/"Choose!"/  
  
A long moment of silence. Then, swallowing against the hard lump in his throat, Aragorn turned towards the door.  
  
"I can't... I can't abandon Legolas and Rhachsell," he whispered hoarsely, eyes closed tight against the threatening tears and the disbelief on the elf queen's face. "I can't. I'm... sorry."  
  
Arwen watched him leave, listened to the door click shut behind him, before sinking silently down to the bed, head bowed. One slender hand slid down to rest on her stomach as tears stained the silvery silk of her gown.  
  
"It's just you and me now little one," she whispered. 


	9. Guidance

A.N. The second chapter of this update - originally these last two were planned as one long chapter, but I realised it was *too* long and they worked better individually. Some stuff I meant to include in this chapter has been left out for length and to make the chapter work better, but it will be included in Chapter Nine, which hopefully should *not* take as long as these two chapters have.  
  
I have read through and edited as best I can, but in my hurry to get these last two chapters up some mistakes will probably have escaped my notice. I've tried to fix anything dramatically wrong.  
  
Hope you like it! This is a fairly long chapter with a mix of plot- progression and.. Well, a bit more plot-progression. ^_^  
  
Cloudy  
  
~  
  
Chapter Eight - Guidance  
  
Rhachsell stirred as a wave of warmth brushed her bare arms. It was followed by a waft of dragon breath that had a strong, familiar odour.  
  
"Faroth! You smell of rabbit!" she complained, sitting up, scattering her covering of leaves. Faroth looked smugly at her from the other side of the campfire that was now burning brightly. A dead rabbit dangled above the flames on one, draconic talon.  
  
"Faroth! That's not how you cook them!" Rhachsell sighed as she reached out to take the rabbit from her dragon, wincing as she burnt her fingers. "I really need a knife."  
  
/"I have claws,"/ Faroth held out his front leg, displaying a set of sharp talons still covered with rabbit fur. Rhachsell winced as she looked at them, but attempted to skin and gut the rabbit with the aid of her dragon's sharp claws. This was something she had learnt among the Orcs, though they tended to eat their kills barely cooked or even raw. Hunting and skinning was what she'd done to make herself even barely useful to them. Legolas had taught her the finer points of skinning a few months ago and although she had nowhere near his skill, it was an only slightly mangled rabbit that was spitted and cooking over the fire half an hour later.  
  
Faroth had already eaten the second rabbit, delicately picking out the bones, but Rhachsell looked at the blackbird in dismay. /"Faroth! Why'd you kill this? It's too small."/  
  
/"It insulted me,"/ Faroth told her petulantly. /"I missed a weasel creature and this bird was sitting in a tree shrieking at me. So I taught him to respect dragons."/  
  
/"You're a hard teacher,"/ Rhachsell said ruefully, surveying the charred feathers. "I should bury him."  
  
While Faroth kept the spitted rabbit turning so it didn't burn, Rhachsell managed to dig a small hole and place the blackbird in the bottom. She was just filling it in again when a voice spoke behind her.  
  
"Who the... Hey! What're you doing here?!"  
  
Terrified Rhachsell swung round. A tall, dark haired man wearing the rough, dull clothes of a farmer, was standing at the edge of the woods gaping at her. As he saw Rhachsell's face he cried out and backed away.  
  
"Begone demon!" he yelled desperately, almost falling in his haste to get away. "Linger not in this place!!"  
  
Rhachsell blushed red with a mixture of fury and humiliation as the man starting mumbled what sounded like a prayer as he kept backing away - only to walk right into something warm and solid. Terrified the farmer craned his neck to see... and found himself looking into the fierce, whirling red eyes of Faroth.  
  
With an almost-scream of terror he leapt away from the dragon and fled past Rhachsell, scattering dirt and leaves over the campfire as he ran. Blind with fear and rage, Rhachsell scrambled to her feet and stumbled to Faroth, somehow mounting without even being aware of it, tearing her skirt on the branches of a bush in her haste. Seconds later they were rising above the trees, Faroth growling angrily after the fleeing farmer.  
  
When they were high above the ground, the dragon tentatively craned his neck around to breathe hot air against Rhachsell's bare foot - she'd lost one of the slippers in her rush to get away.  
  
/"Are. are you hurt?"/ he inquired anxiously. /"I can go and eat that man if you want-"/  
  
/"I'm fine Faroth," / Rhachsell said bitterly. /"Just fine."/  
  
There was a pause. /"You're still hungry - that man ruined our rabbit,"/ Faroth remarked, tactfully not pointing out that if she was fine then she shouldn't have tears streaking her cheeks. /"I saw a village towards the west. We could-"/  
  
"No!" Rhachsell's voice rose in panic. "NO people Faroth!"  
  
Her dragon snorted. /"We don't have to be seen."/  
  
/"And they'll miss you how exactly?!"/  
  
/"I'll stay out of sight and you can sneak up for some food. Then if you get into trouble just yell for me and I'll scare them away."/  
  
Still the half-orc hesitated. "But if-"  
  
/"IF. You'll be fine and you have to eat. Relax."/  
  
Rhachsell sat in mute terror as her dragon turned west and flew steadily over the fields. The farmer had scared her badly, especially since her contact with Men had been limited before she visited Gondor. She wasn't keen to repeat the experience. Aragorn's words still stung.  
  
/"Faroth I think-"/  
  
/"If you don't eat you'll faint mid flight or worse, starve to death,"/ Faroth answered uncharacteristically firmly. /"If you won't do it for yourself, do it for me - I can't live on one rabbit. We're going to that village and you're going to get some food."/  
  
Rhachsell slumped, only her tight grip on Faroth's neck ridge keeping her upright. When her dragon made up his mind arguing was useless, so resigned to her fate, she kept a wary eye out for more people as the fields passed by below.  
  
~  
  
Legolas galloped along the main road away from Minas Tirith, oblivious to wide-eyed stares from the people working in the fields. A young farm hand was forced to dive to one side as the elf shot past and his muffled swearing drifted up from the hedge, making a few people working nearby pause in confusion.  
  
The elf-king didn't notice - he was too deep in thought about Rhachsell. Anira had tried to keep up at first, but fallen behind with much harsh scolding until she flashed /between/ and came out on his shoulder. Now she was clinging to his tunic, keeping up a shrill litany of threatening whistles in his ear.  
  
He passed through the Rammas Echor without heeding the shouts of the guards and swiftly entered the wood where they had left Faroth before entering the city. Although Elven-bred, his horse was gasping for air by now. When one hoof went through the dead leaves littering the floor into a pot hole, the stallion hit the ground with a thud. Legolas was taken by surprise and hurled forwards to hit the ground hard. There was a polite cough and the elf glanced up, cheeks flushed with humiliation at his undignified dismount.  
  
Aragorn crouched to help his friend to his feet, but Legolas ignored the offered hand, instead climbing painfully upright alone. Removing the hand with a sigh, Aragorn straightened up beside the elf, gesturing the a group of mounted guards in neat formation on the road nearby.  
  
"I brought reinforcements."  
  
"Well, I don't want them." Legolas stalked over to his horse who was now trembling on three legs. His left foreleg was held painfully off the ground, already swelling to twice it's normal size. Wincing, the elf knelt to inspect the damage.  
  
"You may not want us, but I think you need us," Aragorn remarked, watching the careful examination of the stallion. He reached for the horse's reins and almost lost his fingers as the animal lunged at him. Legolas hastily grabbed a handful of mane to steady the stallion as he wobbled on his three good legs.  
  
"Next time he won't miss Aragorn." Legolas' tone was harsh. "You've done enough damage already so go back to your palace and play at being king some more. I'll find Rhachsell."  
  
Stung, the king gritted his teeth. "Don't let pride cloud your better judgement Legolas-"  
  
"MY judgement?!" The elf rounded on him. "Whose judgement was it to say things that drove away my daughter? Whose judgement was it when you let Arwen act as badly as all those scatter brained elf-maids I thought I'd left behind in Mirkwood? Do NOT speak to me of judgement when your own is so flawed!"  
  
Aragorn's fists clenched convulsively. The guards were starting to exchange nervous looks - they weren't sure how to stop a brawl between their king and an honoured visitor.  
  
"What do you know of my judgement?" The king's voice was low, more dangerous than if he had been shouting. "You know /nothing/ of me or what I've sacrificed. You're blinded by foolish Elven pride and when you fail and lose Rhachsell forever don't come running back to me with cries for help." His eyes were laden with scorn as he turned towards his horse. "Have fun limping onwards in your quest," he said sarcastically over his shoulder. "See how far your Elvish pride gets you with a lamed horse and no clue of where to go." The king mounted and turned his horse's head towards Gondor.  
  
Legolas stood stiffly in the road, twisting his stallion's reins between his hands in inner torment. Anira had retreated to the treetops out of the way, but he knew her angry hissing was directed at him, not Aragorn.  
  
One of the guards dismounted with a wary glance towards the king and strode hastily to Legolas' side. With a start the elf recognized Nahar, the guard he'd spoken to earlier. Now the man looked furious, dark eyes burning with anger.  
  
"You really have no clue do you?!" the guard snapped. "You'll turn him away after he's given up /everything/ to come after you! The other guards are saying the Lady Arwen made him chose between her and you - and he chose you. Then you repay him by turning him away! I'd heard tales of the stubborn pride of the elves, but I'd never guessed you were so stupid as to turn away the only help you'll get!"  
  
Legolas came very close to gutting the man and his hand was actually halfway to the white-hafted knives on his back before Nahar's words registered. "Arwen? Made him.. /chose/?!"  
  
"And he chose you," Nahar finished softly.  
  
The elf stood frozen for a moment more then finally pride gave way and he sprinted after Aragorn now trotting back towards Gondor. "Aragorn! Wait!"  
  
The king reined in his horse and dismounted, turning to face Legolas as the elf approached. There was a long, tense moment as they faced each other, Aragorn silent and regal, Legolas desperately searching for the right words.  
  
"Aragorn look, I.." He swallowed - apologising was not one of his talents. "I'm sorry. I need your help to find Rhachsell."  
  
For a second it seemed as if Aragorn wasn't going to accept the apology, then his stern expression relaxed and he pulled Legolas into a hug. "By the Valar Legolas, you had me worried for a moment! I thought I was going to have to ride all the way back to Gondor and leave you on your own!"  
  
Legolas exhaled shakily, leaning against Aragorn's horse for support. "For a minute there I was going to let you!" He narrowed his eyes. "Nahar said something about Arwen....?"  
  
Aragorn's smile froze and his grip on Legolas' arm tightened. "Could we.. Can we not talk about that? For now," he added as an afterthought.  
  
Legolas nodded understandingly, then faltered. "Are you sure you want to do this Aragorn?" he said seriously. "Arwen is your wife, your queen. I know you want to help me, but.. sacrificing your marriage? Are you sure?"  
  
With a half smile Aragorn nodded, waving over one of the guards. "I'm positive." Turning, he spoke to the man who dismounted. "Take King Legolas' horse back to Gondor /carefully/. He'll need complete rest.. well the stable-hands will know what to do. Leave your horse for Legolas to ride."  
  
The guard nodded, hiding his disappointment at being sent back by turning towards Legolas' stallion. He repeated Aragorn's mistake and almost got his fingers bitten off, but after a stern word from Legolas the horse meekly let himself be led, limping, into the woods.  
  
Legolas stared after them. "But the road to Gondor is here. where are they going?!"  
  
Aragorn led the guard's chestnut mare over. "Legolas, what kind of king would I be if I didn't know all the secret passageways out of Gondor? Didn't you wonder how we caught up with you so quickly?"  
  
Legolas blushed as he mounted the mare. "Maybe," he mumbled under his breath. From his shoulder Anira whistled in amusement. Aragorn laughed as he mounted his own horse.  
  
"Now where did Nahar see Faroth heading?"  
  
"North-west," supplied Legolas. Aragorn nodded, swinging his horse around.  
  
"To Rohan then!"  
  
~  
  
Faroth circled down a short way from the village, landing in a field of towering corn stalks, tall enough to hide him if he crouched down. Rhachsell slid off his back, trembling.  
  
Faroth nudged her gently towards the plumes of smoke that could be seen rising from the village's chimneys. /"You'll be fine. If you need help just call, I'll be there right away."/  
  
Still reluctant, Rhachsell started to wade through the cornfield, pushing her way through the thick forest of stalks. After only a few steps the plants closed in around her, hiding Faroth from view. She was lost in a bewildering maze of endless golden stems.  
  
The thought flitted through her mind - she could pretend she had gotten lost, say she couldn't find her way out then persuade Faroth this was a bad idea. They could leave. She didn't need to see people again.  
  
/"Don't even think about it."/ Faroth sounded stern. Rhachsell hissed under her breath and continued towards the village.  
  
She stumbled abruptly out the field at one corner, only a few feet from the nearest house. She had been planning to knock at the door and ask for food but now her nerve failed and she turned to flee back towards her dragon.  
  
The scent of fresh bread made her hesitate. On the windowsill of the nearest house, only a few paces from where she stood, two fresh loaves had been left to cool. Without thinking, Rhachsell ran lightly over to the house and snatched the bread, sprinting back into the cornfield before the inhabitants even knew she was there. A housewife's angry shout followed her as she scrambled back to Faroth but by the time the people made it outside, Rhachsell and her dragon were merely a black dot in the sky.  
  
They landed about three or four miles away beside a small pond where they could both drink. Rhachsell tore into the warm bread ravenously, eating half a loaf almost before her feet touched the ground. She sat without pausing, only slowing when the first of the loaves had gone and she was tearing chunks out the second.  
  
Faroth lay down at her back, curling his head around so he could watch her eat. /"See? You managed. You didn't even need me for help."/  
  
Rhachsell had a mouthful of bread and couldn't answer so she merely waved a hand dismissively. Tossing the remaining, much battered loaf to her left hand she scooted over to the water for a drink - and froze.  
  
Her face was reflected in the pond's calm, dark surface as clearly as in a mirror. Her scars stood out clearly and she raised a trembling hand to trace the raised welts of skin across her cheeks. Her nose was barely definable under the rough scars where the metal rings had pierced her skin. Her blond hair, now tangled and full of leaves hung in scraggily rat-tails around her face.  
  
A thief. She was a thief. She was an ugly half-breed whose one redeeming feature - honesty - had just been lost. She was lost.  
  
/"Rhachsell!"/ Faroth sounded alarmed. /"It was just a few loaves of bread! No one will begrudge you that - you were hungry."/  
  
"So what do I do now?" his rider demanded, flinging the remains of the second loaf away with as must force as she could muster. "Do I return to Gondor with my tail between my legs, begging forgiveness for running away? Or do I stay out here, stealing and snatching what I need to survive? I'm /useless/ Faroth - to everyone!" She smashed her fist into the water, dissolving her hated reflection in a crazed mass of ripples.  
  
/"You aren't useless to me,"/ Faroth said timidly, breathing warm air on her chilled feet, both bare now she had lost the dancing slippers. /"You're my rider and I'm your dragon. Your lineage isn't your fault; neither is the fact that people dislike your appearance because of superstitious, foolish beliefs. Your father-"/  
  
"My /father/ is safely back in Minas Tirith with..." Rhachsell faltered, unable to say 'Aragorn'. His betrayal still hurt. "With his friends. They hate me being there. Ar.. The king proved that. It's better if I stay away."  
  
Faroth rumbled thoughtfully, his rider's thoughts reminding him of the conversation that had driven them from Gondor. /"Didn't the icy one say something about her mother? That's why she didn't like you, because of some grudge against the Orcs?"/  
  
Rhachsell frowned - she had been trying to avoid thinking of the argument and had been more concerned with Aragorn's side than Arwen's. "She said.... her mother was captured by Orcs.  
  
~  
  
"How it feels to sit and wonder if she lives or dies, if you will ever see her again and if you do, what her face will look like when the Orcs are through with her?"  
  
~  
  
Rhachsell gasped abruptly, making Faroth swing his head up in concern. "She had every right to hate me!" The half-Orc leaned forward to stare into the water which had now calmed to mirror-smooth again. Her hated Orc-features stared back and her voice cracked as she spoke. "I'm from the people who did that to her family.. I should never have gone to Gondor." Sudden anger flared. "Aragorn should never have asked me to go! I. he..."  
  
Devastated, she rested her forehead on her drawn-up knees, hiding her face. Faroth made a sound she had never heard before, a half growl, half whimper.  
  
/"Dear one, it wasn't your fault. Please, don't blame yourself."/ He sounded as pathetic as a dragon /could/ sound when he added, /"I love you. Is that not good enough?"/  
  
Rhachsell threw her arms around his neck, burying her face against his warm scales. /"No Faroth! I love you more than anything in the world."/ She could feel her dragon's confusion and hurt radiating from him in waves. /"Never ever think that you aren't good enough for me because you are, you're everything and I'm so sorry, I never meant to hurt you..."/  
  
Faroth didn't reply, just curled up around her, keeping her warm. Miserably, Rhachsell slid under one of his wings as though it were a blanket and curled up against her dragon's side, resting her head the soft grass. Faroth carefully sent soothing thoughts to her until she began to drift away into sleep.  
  
~  
  
/She was walking through a forest of massive grey trees, far bigger and more beautiful than any she had seen, even in Mirkwood. There were no people, no buildings, only trees and soft grass, studded with tiny yellow flowers. They brushed her bare feet as she walked, hesitantly, through the dim, twilight woods.  
  
She could have walked for one minute, or twenty or years before she glimpsed the silvery light - there was no way of judging time amidst these stately trees. The light shone between them, flickering like a pale candle. Rhachsell ran towards it, grateful for some sign of life in this mysterious place.  
  
The light was coming from the water in a small basin on a carved stone pedestal, shaped like a branching tree. The basin itself was made of silver but the pedestal could have been made of stone or silver or mithril or anything, for it blended into the twilight, at times seeming almost to vanish entirely, leaving the silver basin floating on air.  
  
Rhachsell approached it cautiously, the light playing over her face as she leaned over to look in the water. She cast no reflection - there was only stars, a thousand pinpricks of light glimmering in the depths. Curious she put out a hand, intending to see it there were actually small specks of gold in the basin because when she glanced up there was only the branching canopy high overhead - no stars were visible.  
  
"Do not touch the water," a deep, musical voice warned. From the shadows stepped a tall elf-lady in white, her golden hair falling to her waist in a shining cascade. Rhachsell swallowed, stepping away from the basin.  
  
"Where am I?"  
  
"You are beside a small pond in Rohan, asleep beside your dragon- mate." The lady smiled as she crouched so she could look at Rhachsell better. "I am in my kingdom of the Golden Woods, Lothlórien. Yet we speak."  
  
Rhachsell trembled. This must be Galadriel, the Lady of Lórien, ancient and wise. It took her a moment to find her voice again.  
  
"Why- why are we speaking? Am I dreaming, or... something.." Her voice trailed away in confusion and Galadriel's smile deepened as she held out a slender white hand.  
  
"I have brought you here while you walked the world of dreams, to show you something. Will you look into my Mirror?"  
  
"Your. Mirror?" Rhachsell glanced over at the basin - she had heard tales of it from her father. She wasn't sure if she wanted to see what it could show her. "Should I?"  
"I would not have brought you here otherwise."  
  
With a deep breath, the half-elf nodded. "I will look." She slid a small, battered hand into the smooth pale one and let herself be led back to the silver basin. Galadriel breathed on the water which rippled faintly, then cleared. The stars were gone, leaving only deep blackness.  
  
With a final, silent prayer to anyone who might be listening, Rhachsell stepped forward and leaned over the water. Galadriel laid a hand on her shoulder.  
"Do no touch the water," she warned again, softly. Rhachsell nodded and turned to look.  
At once the Mirror cleared, a landscape taking shape in the still water - an endless rolling sea of sand, glowing deep orange in the setting sun. Before Rhachsell could wonder, the dunes dissolved and reformed into a forest. A unicorn shaped of starlight walked along a sandy path. Beside the half-elf, Galadriel stiffened at this, eyes widening a fraction but the picture was gone again, changing to a cave. A fire flickered, casting shadows and a golden glow over Rhachsell's face then a tall man entered the image, with skin as dark as night and covered with even darker tattoos. He knelt to stoke the fire then turned abruptly and seemed to be staring right out the water at Rhachsell. She gasped and would have pulled away if not for Galadriel's reassuring hand on her shoulder.  
  
The man was gone and now the pictures were coming faster, only the barest flickers. Rhachsell glimpsed a black city amidst sand dunes, a leafy oasis reflecting a sky filled with stars and a lone horse galloping across the night-dark desert. Just as the rapid play of pictures was making her dizzy one image formed and stayed.  
  
A huge white tower, surrounded by roaring waves, reaching it seemed to the sun. From the very top shone a light brighter than any flame, which made Rhachsell flinch away, squinting. With an abruptness that was startling the light vanished but the tower remained for a moment longer until a long crack snaked up the side. Chunks of white stone rained down into the sea, creating massive waves and immense plumes of spray. Then the tower cracked, all the way across and the top half fell, almost in slow motion to hit the sea with a crash that was nearly audible. Rhachsell flinched away as spray splashed her face; when she licked it from her lips, it was salty.  
  
The picture changed again, still the tower, but this time it was in ruins, battered, only a few ragged spires reaching above the sea surface. The grime of ages had turned the white stone black, the furious sea had gouged huge gashes in the one carved sides, but the remains of the towers were still, defiantly, standing.  
  
The Mirror went dark without warning and Rhachsell stumbled back, almost falling until Galadriel caught her. Dazed and confused, the half-elf looked up into a pair of dazzlingly blue eyes.  
  
"What does it mean?" she whispered. "I don't- I don't understand!"  
  
"You will." Galadriel leaned down to kiss her forehead, cool lips against rough skin. "Sleep now little one and when you wake, all will become clear. My blessings go with you."  
  
Rhachsell felt her eyes drifting shut and tried desperately to force them open again. "But I need to know- how- where?!"  
  
"You will know." Galadriel's musical voice followed her down as she fell into the dark depths of sleep.  
  
~ 


End file.
